The 24th Hunger Games: The Victor that Started It All
by AWriterCanDream
Summary: Kaede, chosen as tribute for district 7 is not expected to win the 24th Hunger games, his disability hindering any chances of survival. It doesn't help that he's up against an array of other tributes, who are all bent on trying to win their own survival. Who will win the Hunger Games, and find the odds actually in their favor?
1. Part One: Kaede

The heat was almost unbearable as it weighed on him. Above, the sun was relentless, but the closeness of people around him was what made it worse. A light sheen of sweat already adorned his forehead as he waited, patient only on the exterior, his insides churning with nervous energy. The Reaping had that effect, not just on him, but everyone. Something about subjecting yourself to a lottery of death made every person-regardless of age- nervous. This event though, was the only time he found himself surrounded by the people of his district, typically they avoided him as if his hand was contagious.

"Welcome," a loud solitary voice echoed through the silent crowd. It was the same man that came every year; a man that was part cheer and happiness, but also part bitterness and hostility. He didn't know the man's name, or frankly cared for it. To know meant possibly dying.

"Happy Hunger Games," he paused, a smile spreading across his face, which was disgustingly covered in a shiny, pale dust. "And may the odds be ever in your favor." The smile seemed to mock them, as if he knew already the fate of the tributes he would be in charge of. Underneath the dust he wore, there was dark skin, but it was the eyes that caught his attention, even as the bowls were wheeled onto the stage; orange like a rumbling fire.

"I believe we should start with our female tribute," he drawled out, actually letting some cheer into his gravelly voice. He strode over to the bowl on the right and stuck his hand in it, not even trying to make a show out of the action, a piece of paper already grasped. There was a moment of silence as he read it before he spoke the name; "Ashley Brown."

There was only silence in return as the crowd nearby parted, and a girl stepped out. She deserved credit for how little fear showed on her face, her dark eyes almost defiant. Most of the children from the years before had wept or even had run from the impending fate that stage brought. Ashley though, embraced it, standing resolutely beside the Capitol man. "Good, good," he gave her a second of applause -only from himself- as he walked over to the other bowl, snatching another piece deftly.

"And to join her, our male tribute," another pause as he studied the name. "Kaede Johnson." He felt himself freeze, felt the stares as they all looked at him, but not the way they had for her. At first there was confusion, but then they all looked at him -not with sympathy- as if he were already dead. At his side, his hand tensed, like it knew it was the subject of their stares. "Kaede Johnson. Where are you?" For once, the Capitol man had a new expression on his face; a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. A hand shoved at Kaede's back, forcing him into a stumble, right in the direction of the stage.

"Lovely," was all he heard the man say as he was led to the microphone where Ashley was still standing. The word itself only seemed to burrow in his mind, marking how little was expected of him. He had gotten used to it, yes, he learned to deal with the uselessness others had seen in him. Their stares now though only served to anger him, a fire nearly like the man's eyes alighting in him. "We have our tributes from District Seven!" His voice carried out over the heads of the people, Kaede flinching at his side as he was encouraged to shake Ashley's hand.

Their hands met, but Kaede found himself looking into her eyes, which had in one final gaze assessed him and dismissed. She wouldn't align herself with him and was making it clear from the start. The childish side of him figured he didn't need her, but the realistic side was beginning to tick down the short list of ways he could ever survive the games. The list had already been short, but now it was minuscule. They were led off the stage and into the building behind it, separated into rooms so that they could see their families. Kaede though without family or friends to part with, was left standing in the foyer with the man, waiting on Ashley to finish seeing her's. The loneliness that he supposed he should have felt in this moment was absent for once, his other thoughts keeping those at bay. He had already lost those that could see past his hand; there was nothing left but life. "How long will I last?" The Capitol man stopped his conversation with one of the guards and finally looked at Kaede, surprised by the question.

"What do you mean?"

"How long before I die?" The surprise was replaced with shock as he came closer.

"That depends on you," was all he replied with. The answer though was the most honest one he could have gotten. "He's the one you should ask. My name though, if you make it, is Devri Vermillion." He smiled, a real one. "I hope you make it." Kaede merely nodded and looked to the individual he had motioned to. The man stood in the corner, more bored than anything with the situation, showing little investment in the new tributes. There was nothing as striking about him as there had been with Devri, his hair dark, and eyes almost identically marked with shadow. His face housed a five o' clock shadow that he assumed would be permanent, given the man's attitude.

"This way," Devri led him out of the back of the house, and toward a waiting train. Ashley, and the other man followed them into one of the luxurious cars, both sitting down. Devri picked up a small bowl of candies, and sat with them, hunting down the orange colored ones with a steady concentration.

"Who are you?" Ashley was straight to the point with the unknown man, her eyes set in a glare.

The man looked at her then turned his head to look out the window of the moving train, his bored expression still in place. "Berkeley," he stated blandly, which didn't quite explain his presence.

Devri chuckled across from them, though not looking up from his bowl. "He is your mentor, girl." Ashley sat up, rigid at the term, 'girl'.

"Then what do you suggest I do to win?"

He turned his attention back to her with annoyance. "There is no winning. Not unless you are from One or Two, where they delight in this." Berkeley glanced at Devri, as if awaiting reprimand, but Devri still showed no sign of speaking. "You survive, girl." When she glared at him again he snapped, "And you are a girl. A Damn annoying one at that." He slouched in his seat, and rubbed his forehead, Ashley standing abruptly and walking out of the car.

"And what about me?" Kaede tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice; tried not to look like every other child he had seen go off to die.

"You?" Berkeley gave him a strange look, but shook his head, his eyes falling on Kaede's left hand. "I don't want to get your hopes up."

Kaede leaned closer, and attempted to hide his hand out of sight. "Please, I know I'm not much, but-." He bit his lip, and reigned in his emotions. He wanted to live, if that was all he had left, even if others would find that the weakest of motivations. "I want to at least put up a fight."

Berkeley frowned. "A fight? When you can barely hold anything with that?"

"Yes," Kaede replied.

"Fine," he acceded, but not without a grumble. "The only thing that will possibly keep you alive is running." He saw Kaede's own frown, and continued with a sigh. "When you find yourself looking at the Cornucopia and the countdown begins, look at the weapons and other tributes. It makes them think you'll go for the goods, but when the countdown's run out, you run to wherever is farthest away."

"Run? That's all?"

"It's more than I gave her, and it'll keep you alive." He had a point, considering he hadn't told Ashley much. "What's more, do you know the average for the tributes killed the first day?"

"I know there are quite a few."

"More than a few. Try six to ten. That's nearly half of how many tributes there actually are."

Kaede nodded, and repeated the information in his head, trying to make it stick. "And the Careers?"

"Avoid at all costs. They'll rip you apart."

"Noted."

Berkeley sat forward. "May I see it?" Kaede caught where he was staring and made to back up, but at Berkeley's firm look he held out his hand. Berkeley's own cold ones took in his left, feeling its normal and irregular parts. "I'd like to say you'll be fine, but with this hand it makes things difficult."

Kaede didn't want to be told to give up. "And?"

"And that means you will have to conserve your hand and energy." Berkeley let go of his hand. "Avoid anything drawn out, got it?"

"Got it." Berkeley nodded, and got up, leaving the same way Ashley had.

A 'clink' on the glass table beside him was all that alerted him to the fact that Devri was still in the car. "I've never heard him say that much," he mused. "He must like you." Kaede gazed at the glass of candies, none of which were orange now. "Like I said before, I hope you make it." Devri stretched out his legs, landing them on the table, not even trying to look refined. "You should rest."

He didn't sleep during the ride, instead watching as the landscape passed by in the windows of his compartment. It was dark, but somehow he could make out the shapes of the trees and hills as they sped past. The trees though, eventually gave way to a land of lights, lights on buildings, and reflected on the water nearby. He didn't need to be told that this was the Capitol, they had made it to be grand even from this distance.

From now on, he would have to be more than just competitive. He would have to be smart and cunning to at least make it past the first day. That was really all he could hope for. Kaede glanced down at his gnarled hand, understanding a little why those from his District had looked at him the way they had. They didn't know how hard he had practiced holding an axe; how hard he had trained his hand to not be completely useless. He had hoped that it would've led to a decent job cutting trees, but now it would do even more; be even more. He would be more.

**This is a fanfiction based in the Universe of Suzanne Collin's Hunger Games, while most of the characters are OC's I am not profiting off of it any way, and do not own the rights to this amazing story world, or any characters that come from the actual books***


	2. Part Two: The Capitol

***I don't own the world of the Hunger Games, though man I wish I did. The only parts I created were the characters, and the unique events of the story. Read, Enjoy, and Review!***

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Two: The Capitol

By L. N. Price

They hadn't gotten far off the train before they were herded into a nearby building, and again separated. Ashley didn't seem to care as more Capitol people swarmed them, whispering about all the work that had to be done. The two that had taken him could only glance at his hand, gasping at its ruined appearance. One -a female- laid her hand on his shoulder, sympathy clouding her eyes. "If you win, we could have that fixed," she smiled reassuringly.

He had never thought about having his hand fixed; had never had the technology or opportunity to even attempt it. "Really?" There was no actual interest in his voice, but the question delighted her, her magenta colored eyebrows almost meeting her similarly colored hair.

"Of course! Anything is possible," she gave a light laugh, leading him into a stall with metal walls, lights flickering on at their presence. "Sit, sit." He was nearly pushed down onto a bedlike table, the woman looking through a row of strange tools that had been laid out.

"So much to be done. Deeva will have a lot of work ahead of her," the man murmured, keeping his voice low.

"I believe the better phrase is, "a new canvas"." Another woman with dark yellow hair stood in the entrance of the stall, the light reflecting off her almost golden eyes. They were technically brown, but the flecks of gold mixed in were so bright they cast the brown into shadow. A smile graced her lips as she studied him, forming plans in her head. "No, he is perfect. Just tweak a few things here and there, and he will be ready for the Capitol."

He hadn't expected her to think of him as anything near perfect, no one, not even those of his district, had ever thought that. "The question is if they will be ready for him." Kaede didn't need to look at the other two in the stall to know they were as caught off guard with that statement. They had gone rigid, their mouths opened in surprise. Deeva though didn't react, instead leaving as quickly as she had appeared, that smile still planted firmly on her face.

The man and woman went back to work, trimming, and cleaning every last bit of him, their expressions firm and uncertain. Kaede could feel the minutes slowly morph into an hour as he sat there being prodded, his body feeling unusually lighter. When they finally finished, Deeva returned and they left without a word. "What is the point of all this?" He could feel the new weightlessness of his hair, now only an inch at most off his head.

"The Games have always had an aspect of glamour and pomp to them. No one wants to see a cast of ragged children going at each other. It's unsightly." She sat down across from him, still looking more at his body than simply just him. "I am your stylist, assigned by the Capitol."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

Her smile deepened, those eyes sparkling. "It means I help you look desirable," she stated simply. "You are going to want sponsors, especially with that hand of yours. I and my abilities will ensure you catch the eye of said sponsors."

"Who would want to sponsor me, and why?" Berkeley had said nothing of this aspect of the games, hadn't even hinted at it.

"Citizens of the Capitol sponsor their favorite tributes, and send items that are vital to their survival in the arena." The smile faltered into a frown. "Has your mentor said nothing of this to you?"

"No."

"Then you had better ask him. I am simply in charge of your time here in the Capitol." She patted him on the knee and stood. "I won't be able to help you out there." A sadness crept into her voice as she walked to the doorway. "I'll see you in a while, Kaede."

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight at the chariots," she said. "I still need to make a few adjustments to your outfit. But when it's done you will be perfect." She didn't give him a chance to respond as she left again.

She had said perfect, but he felt ridiculous in the outfit. It had been picked to represent his district, but that meant it had to involve trees. Trees weren't exactly the most fashionable, or flattering topic for clothes. To make it worse, he could see the Careers as they prepared to get in the first two chariots, both pairs looking excruciatingly better than the other ten districts around them.

One of the taller boys, from district two, he figured, stared back at him, his eyes forming a hard glare. "I've done all I can," Deeva said, blocking his view of the other boy. "The rest is up to you." She sounded less than hopeful, but the smile on her face made him question that assumption.

"I would hide that hand to give yourself at least a chance." Berkeley walked up to the two, his expression carefully blank. "Sponsors are less likely to support you if they think you won't make it," he said simply.

Kaede stared down at his hand, but nodded, working out the placement of it already. "Come on. They are about to call for the chariots." Berkeley helped him up, showing silently where he should hide his hand. Ashley joined him in the chariot, but without a single word, not even failing to give a look of annoyance to him.

Ahead of them, the first chariot rattled forward, clearing the large hangar like room they had all been prepared in, and into the night. From where they were waiting, he couldn't see anything but the darkness, and a few flashing lights, everything else obstructed by the white walls of the room.

One by one, the chariots fell into a line, the horses kept at a trot as they each led themselves out of the building. The white walls were quickly replaced with the night sky, but on either side of the wide road they were on, there were stands filled with Capitol citizens. A light shone on them as they made their progression to the building at the far end of the road. It was taller than any of the others that surrounded them, a screen propped up on it showing the sitting figure of a middle aged man. He was important, maybe the president, but for some unknown reason the man's expression never changed from a bored frown.

"Smile, you idiot. You look like an imbecile," Ashley snapped beside him, a stretched smile covering the anger she had for him. Her voice though, was hard to hear over the clamor of cheers from the stands around them. As an example, she waved at the crowds, smiling like they were her favorite people. A part of him felt disgusted at the acting, but he realized the point of it enough to know what it meant to winning. He followed her in waving, but his smile was thin, hardly concealing the uneasiness or bitterness that came with being made a tribute.

Whatever the Capitol people read from their expressions, it didn't affect them, each of the stands seeming louder and louder as they progressed down the road. The roar stilled his hand for that moment, and he felt the fear catch up to him, felt it fully take root. They were cheering for children that they would soon watch not just die, but kill one another. It was a thought that sickened him to the core. He continued to wave, but now the smile wouldn't even come back, leaving him in between the smile and frown, hopelessly lost in the cheering.

Once they had made it to the end of the road, all the chariots made a wide crescent formation in front of the building, only then coming to a halt. The screen showed the man standing and coming to the podium above them, his frown still visible, though there was a small smile forming slowly. "Welcome tributes!" He made a motion with his hands, indicating all the chariots below him. "This is a wonderful and grand occasion for us all. To witness the strength, honor, courage, and sacrifice that the Hunger Games bring us." The smile came to fruition as he continued making his speech.

"For you, the tributes this is a chance to find out your potential and vie for the chance to be victor!" He made it sound glorious, nothing like the image of wasteful death that Kaede had formed in his mind.

"For the citizens of the Capitol, it is our chance to witness the moment when they become all they can be. To witness the birth of a victor!" A cheer rose in the crowd, and Kaede could feel the vibration of it in the chariot, the sound turning his blood cold.

"We acknowledge your sacrifice, tributes!" The smile was beginning to scare him, and the line itself reminded him of what his parents used to tell him the Romans had declared to the Gladiators, who they had knowingly sent to their deaths. They were dismissed by that line, the chariots slowly making their way into an area under the building. He didn't breathe until the chariot came to a stop in front of Berkeley, Devri, and Deeva, who only appeared to be proud.

"You did well! You both looked so splendid out there. Almost even on par with Districts One and Two." Deeva embraced them, a wide grin casting her eyes into a flicker of gold.

"At least they are making my job easy enough," Berkeley replied. He was serious again, the congratulations over for now. "There are already sponsors interested in the two of you, though they won't commit until the scoring."

Ashley grumbled beside him, letting the air of happiness disappear. "And why not?"

Because tributes from District Seven don't have an outstanding track-record. No one wants to gamble on an unknown."

It made enough sense. "I take it the Careers already have sponsors."

"Of course." Berkeley shrugged, and glanced in the direction of the group, casually observing the lethal tributes. " _They_ are worth the early commitment. Typically at least." He stopped staring at the group, and looked back at them. "Let's go. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be rough on the two of you."

"What about tomorrow?" Ashley was picking at her outfit, trying to hide the scowl that he was starting to realize might have been a permanent feature.

"Training tomorrow, Scoring the day after. Unless one of you knew more about fighting and survival than I thought you did." They followed him into an elevator, Deeva and Devri coming as well.

"I know enough," Ashley muttered, her ego still being deflated by Berkeley.

Berkeley looked like he would laugh in that instant, but instead sighed, directing his full attention to her. "Really? So tell me when it's a good idea to set a fire," he half yelled at her.

For once, her frown was gone, and she looked genuinely scared. "At night?" She nearly whispered back.

Berkeley shook his head, and kneaded his forehead, calming down a little. "Never. Fires are like flashing beacons for other tributes to come slit your throat while it's easy." The elevator door opened, and he walked into a bright, open room. "These are your living quarters," he said with one hand motioning at the large space. "Go ahead and get settled. I'm going to sleep."

"But what about tomorrow?" Berkeley had said something about training, but the word seemed vague.

"Learn as much as you can. I'll talk to you afterwards about the scoring."

"Thank you, Berkeley."

All he received for reply at first was a sigh of frustration. "Don't thank me yet, kid. My conscious can't take that pressure right now."

Kaede nodded and let him disappear into a nearby room, making his own way down the hall to another. The room he stepped in was as large as the home he had grown up in, and though it was sparsely furnished, the bed seemed inviting enough. He hardly had any energy left after the Reaping, and chariot ride. The bed didn't even creak as he splayed himself out on it, basking in its luxurious softness. It was sad that the cost of such comfort was death, otherwise it could have been worth it. He stared up at the bare ceiling, trying to form some kind of plan of attack for the next day. Berkeley wanted him to learn, but what would even help him out in that bloodbath of arena? For all he could figure out, there were two sides to becoming the victor; those that hid and focused on survival, and those who killed until they were the only ones left. He didn't really fit into either group, he wasn't a straight out killer, and hiding seemed like an even worse concept. But did that mean that he would have to change in order to simply live? He fell asleep to those thoughts, letting them churn in his mind as he dozed off, not committing to anything no matter how much he truly thought on it.

After only a few, brief instructions, and reminder not to kill each other yet, they had been left to figure out the training room for themselves. Only a small portion of the tributes made a move to grapple with the weapons that had been laid out on multiple racks. The Careers had taken over immediately, claiming weapons that made the weaker tributes shrink back, already fearing for their lives.

Out of the weapons provided, he saw only one axe, which sat right next to where the District one boy had set up his sword practice. He wouldn't be practicing with the axe if he had to be near a Career. Taking a calming breath, he moved on to the next station. He tried not to flinch as he heard the thud that came from the dummy losing portions of his body at a time, the machete slashing through him like it was butter. The District Two boy, Mason, was merciless, cutting at the inanimate object. Fear was the only thing the act could inspire from its viewer. He paused momentarily from his dismembering to grin at Kaede, his eyes dark with a promise of death. Kaede continued walking, and picked up a long blade, swinging it a little in the air.

"And what exactly do you plan to do with that?" A snide voice questioned from beside him at the station. He looked up from the blade to see one of the Careers staring back at him, but not with condemnation, but a quizzical expression. Her blonde hair was tied back in a long braid that hung loosely behind her, but his gaze fell on the spear that she held.

"Practice." She didn't reply to that, but he could see one of her eyebrows raise before she shrugged, and got into a stance, her concentration on the targets before them. In one swift motion, the spear was out of her hand, and into the air, hitting the target dead in the center. She let out a sigh of happiness as she realized where it had hit, and Kaede found himself staring at the blade in his hands, and back at the axe he had walked past before. Berkeley had said practice, and while he was sure he had meant to prepare himself for the survival part, Kaede couldn't find any interest in that. He was already walking before he knew what he was doing; already had the axe in hand before the Careers even took notice of him being so close to them.

The axe wasn't like the one he had used at home, but its shape and form were familiar enough. His hand fell into place on the handle, Kaede walking back over to the Career girl, and stepping up beside her, getting into his own stance. With a hard stare at the targets, he loosed the large axe, letting it spin in the air and hit another target right where he had aimed. The room fell silent around him, the Careers still watching him, most likely calculating how much of a threat he was now. He wanted to gloat, to let them know how much he wanted that to scare them, but he knew that would only make him target number one. Instead, he pulled the axe out of the target, not with his right hand, but left, letting them see how useless his hand truly was. It wouldn't have been able to hold the axe for long, but they didn't need to know that. He smiled to himself as they all showed even a little surprise at the action. He wasn't out of the standings yet at least. The gloating clouded his mind of all the suggestions Berkeley had given him, Kaede continuing to focus solely on the familiar axe, throwing it, and swinging it at the dummies the Careers had been using earlier. It was almost like being back at home, and secretly practicing in the field behind his house. Free of judgment from others, and free to not have to think for once. He could lose himself in the naturalness the axe gave to him.

He should have experimented with the survival equipment that had been provided in the training room. Or at least have had the sense to try out other weapons. He now regretted that as he waited to be called into the scoring room. No one stared at him here, all the other tributes thinking about only themselves now, not calculating anything at this point until when the scores would be released. The Careers were already gone, but the waiting room was still silent, everyone focused on what they would do to gain their scores.

"District Seven. Kaede Johnson." Ashley watched him as he stood, and walked through the gate, her own nervousness making her seem caring in that moment. The room he stepped into was expansive, but only somewhat lit, most of the lights focused on a small area. Placed in that small area were the racks of weapons that he had seen in the training room, but now there was no pressure from fellow tributes to avoid it. Above the area was a sitting area where men of all ages sat staring bored already at his entrance. It was as silent as the waiting area, but now he felt inclined to speak, to announce himself.

"District Seven. Kaede Johnson," he repeated what the speaker from before had said, taking an axe off the rack. He didn't fail to notice how their expressions remained unimpressed, already counting him off their lists before he had even started. He grabbed the single axe off the rack, and tested its weight. It was just like the one he had used the day before down to the coloring. He looked back up at the men, feeling their stares on him as he stepped up to the line, eyes on the targets in front of him. Their disapproval annoyed him, but he merely swung the axe in his hand, letting it cross hands for a second, and then fall back into his right, not even making the stance as he threw the axe. He didn't look at them; didn't look at the target as the axe met the metal dummy, simply turning on his heel, and walking out of the room. He didn't need to see if they were impressed, didn't need to check if he had missed or not.

"You just left?" Devri looked at him like he was an entirely different person, and wasn't sure how to figure him out.

"Yeah. I don't need their approval." Berkeley snorted from beside him, even as Ashley glared at him.

"You didn't help me out with your show," she huffed, sitting on the couch with them. "They just sat there at first, like they didn't know how to move or speak."

Berkeley laughed instead of sympathizing for her, clapping Kaede on the back. "You really showed them what a District Seven tribute can do!"

Ashley didn't drop it, her eyes on the television screen. "I just hope my score is decent."

"After Days of careful evaluation, our tribute's scores have been realeased!" The announcer let out a sound of glee, shuffling the papers before him. "From District One, Chrome," The picture of the tall and skinny career flitted on the screen. "with a score of ten." Berkeley nodded, already having figured that out.

"They always get high scores," he said solemnly. The announcer continued, showing a picture of the girl he had practiced beside in the training room.

"Lux with a score of eight." Her picture passed off screen, and then the boy who had grinned at him replaced her.

"From District Two, Mason with a score of eleven." Berkeley now seemed less certain as he saw the number, and it only made Kaede feel icy inside.

"You're going to have to keep an eye out for him. He will be trouble."

Kaede nodded, his eyes not leaving the television. "I figured as much." Pictures and numbers flitted on and off the screen, but he couldn't find himself finding much interest when the other tribute's scores were much lower than the Career's. Then the announcer came to his district. "From District Seven, Kaede," there was a pause as the man looked at the score, and his eyebrows rose. "with a score of nine." A low whistle issued from Berkeley, and Kaede found that he himself was as surprised as the others.

"And Ashley with a score of six." He felt her anger then, but for some reason didn't feel the need to fear it, or worry over it. Her score was her own, and his actions had nothing to do with her's. It could have been the high score talking, but she had written him off from the beginning, not the other way around. If she regretted her words, she would have to be the one to mend the gap, because he was no longer willing to play friend anymore.

They were supposed to watch the entire sequence of tributes and scores, but when he simply sat there staring blankly, Berkeley had sent him away, and he had ended up on the balcony. He didn't leave the small space for another several hours, letting the breeze tousle his hair, and make him feel less doomed. In the distance, he could still hear the sound of the Capitol parties, but instead of feeling bitter, he found himself relaxing to the sound, losing himself in his thoughts, or rather absence of them. There would be plenty of time for thinking when he reached the arena, and the idea of that alone stilled his mind, allowing him to sit there and simply get lost in the moment. Tomorrow would catch up to him anyway.


	3. Part Three: Clash and Carnage

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Three: Clash and Carnage

By Lauren Price

"Are you ready?" Berkeley stood outside his room, some compassion showing in his usual bored expression. Kaede could only stare down at himself, taking in the outfit that had been sent up only that morning. It wasn't anything special, mostly a thin shirt that was fitted to his skin, pants, boots, and a jacket that felt too warm for the heated room they stood in. The clues were right at his fingertips but he still felt unsure of where he was being sent. Berkeley sighed beside him, and ushered him out the door, staying silent as they made their way out of the tribute center. "There's most likely a forest."

Kaede snapped out of his thoughts, stumbling a little from surprise, but Berkeley made no move to wait for him. "How do you figure that?"

"The jacket, and shirt. Hot during the days, cold at night, though that's pretty much anywhere these days."

It made sense. "Oh."

"Look, it's alright to be scared, Kaede. I was, but don't just shut it in, that only leads to you freezing on the spot, and getting killed like an idiot."

"So don't freeze?" Berkeley looked at him like he was stupid, but nodded anyway, probably out of pity.

"Don't freeze. Just remember to run, and not go for the weapons. Beyond that, I can't really help you." They stopped in front of an aircraft, some of the other tributes already on board. "I'll see you right before you go up." With a last nod, Berkeley disappeared from the launch pad, leaving Kaede to board.

Kaede paused at the ramp of the ship, staring at the Capitol person standing just inside, and the tributes who merely sat in their seats, no sign of fear on their faces. He was sure his own had an expression of terror.

The Capitol lady approached him when he still didn't move, but she didn't seem annoyed. "Please, sit." She motioned to one of the seats, letting him strap himself in. Once he was situated, she leveled a device near his arm, and shot something in it, the small object letting out an equally small light. He didn't ask what it was, he didn't want to know. That line of questioning only made the games that more real.

He didn't know the two tributes on either side of him, both likely from the farther out districts, but directly across from him was the district one boy, who now leaned back in his own seat, his eyes closed. There wasn't even a flinch as the aircraft lifted upwards, beginning the trip to the arena. He simply sat there, taking a leisurely nap on their way to certain death.

Kaede looked away, and down at his hands, the only things that would not attract attention at that moment. His left hand was unusually still, while his right shook with nervous energy. Sighing heavily, he sat on the hand, hiding it from the others and himself. _Don't shut it in._ What had Berkeley meant by that? How exactly was he supposed to let it out?

There was a shudder as the aircraft landed, the ramp opening up to his left. They were in a large hangar, all of the sunlight shielded out, and the exits consisting of twenty-four small hallways. Each hallway was marked with a district number and a male or female symbol. He spotted the one marked with a seven, and followed it down to a door. His hand touched the knob, but it was a long moment before he actually opened it, the fear creeping up on him.

The room behind the door was tiny, meant only to house the cylindrical elevator and the tribute. Berkeley though managed to stand calmly next to the elevator, allowing Kaede some space to breathe. "We don't have much time, so if you have any questions, I would ask them now."

There was silence as Kaede slowed down his breathing, trying to regain some sense of composure. When he spoke, his voice betrayed him, every word forcing him to take a large gulp of air. "How long do we have?"

"They are about to start the countdown."

He nodded, sitting on a small stool in the corner. "How did you win?" There was a rustle as Berkeley kneeled down in front of him, true pain showing in his eyes.

"I survived. I knew my strengths and weaknesses and I played by them."

"Tributes have one minute before Games start," a cold voice said through the one speaker in the room. It was a struggle to reign in his breaths again, the fear plaguing his mind, and making it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Kaede." He forced another breath out of his lungs, the panic not letting up. "Kaede!" Berkeley snapped at him, shaking his leg. The panic didn't go away, but the focus returned, his green eyes locking onto Berkeley. "Keep it together, remember not to shut it in."

His confusion at Berkeley's words must have shown, because the sympathy returned in that moment, Berkeley patting him on the knee. "How?" He could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that was driving him mad. "How do I do that? Look at my hand!" His left hand still hadn't acted up, but it was surely waiting for the right time. "They are going to kill me," he wanted Berkeley to stop it, to make it go away, but he knew; he knew that even Berkeley didn't hold that power.

"Turn it against them, Kaede." He took Kaede's ruined hand, and held it up. "Make them realize that you are someone worth competing with."

"Thirty Seconds before start," the voice spoke blandly. Berkeley stood, and offered a hand to Kaede, helping him stand.

"Let's get you in there." Kaede nodded, and stepped into the elevator.

"Berkeley," he paused in the entrance of the elevator, turning to look at his mentor. "Thank you." The cylinder made a 'click' as it sealed shut, locking him in, though he could still see Berkeley standing nearby. Distantly, he could hear the countdown continuing, soon to be reaching zero. Anxiety gripped onto him again, his breathing becoming shallow, and his hand finally aching. He didn't look at Berkeley now, afraid his fear would show much too clearly on his face.

Kaede clenched his bad hand, testing its strength warily, attempting to drown out the countdown from his mind. It must have finally reached its end he realized as the cylinder lit up, and he was lifted into the sunlight.

Blinding light was all he could focus on at first, his eyes unable to quickly adapt to the ferocity of it. Slowly, he could make out the shadowy forms of his opponents, all positioned in a semi-circle. He stood on a raised platform, identical to those that the others stood on, the platforms and cornucopia being the only metallic objects in a sea of green. Grass covered the ground, and in every direction there was a forest that seemed to go on forever no matter which way you went. The Cornucopia was equidistant from each of them; a steel object that rested just in the middle of the circle. Dozens of weapons glistened in the harsh light, each he had already displaced from his mind. The arena itself was silent, save for the countdown which echoed around them.

"Let the 24th Hunger Games begin! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" A loud voice startled him to attention, but he didn't move, remembering Berkeley's reminder. "Ten." Instead, he stared at the array of weapons, searching for the familiar even if he wouldn't ever use it. "Nine." There wasn't a tension to the silence, only an intense concentration. "Eight." Kaede leaned forward on the platform, keeping his hand steady even as a short burst of pain shot through it. "Seven." His eyes focused on the Cornucopia, picking a small spot to fixate on, his plan good enough to fool himself. "Six." In his mind, he chanted 'run to the trees', trying to keep his body in line, and not moving toward the one area that would get him killed. "Five." He took a deep breath. "Four." Beside him the other tributes prepared themselves. "Three." _Run to the trees._ "Two." _Run to the trees._

"One." The cannon rang out, Kaede flinching at first from its abruptness. That hesitance cost him as he watched the other tributes dart forward, only a select few dashing into the woods. The careers were quick, taking the weapons first, or killing those who had already managed their own. Kaede's chant left his mind as he stood there paralyzed. It was a bloodbath, one body hitting the ground, and then another. As each body fell there was a loud cannon shot, marking the exact moment they died. Mason, the district two boy closed in on a small girl, and his machete ended her in several clean swipes, her blood spraying the ground. That smile he had worn the other day was present, a smile that pushed out the simple fear of death, and pushed Kaede into a scrambling run. He didn't attempt to pick up any of the scattered bags, he just ran, not looking back at the gory mess he had fled from. They were laughing he realized as his heart rate slowed. They were killing kids just like them, and laughing, enjoying, the mayhem of the rampant death.

Once he had put a wide enough distance between him and the cornucopia, he dropped behind one of the trees, struggling to take breaths when the panic still burned inside of him. He no longer could hear their laughing, or the sound of the cannon, but it did little to ease his trepidation. His right hand didn't shake now, but his left throbbed uncontrollably, Kaede cradling it against his chest. He was safe for now, but it wouldn't last, he knew it wouldn't. Berkeley's advice had gotten him past the cornucopia, now he had to pull himself through the next part. He didn't have supplies or a weapon though, and that lack was something he wouldn't be able to ignore for long.

It remained silent as he leaned against the trunk of the tree, its roughness bringing him back to reality. The bright sunlight the games had started under was dimmed, most likely now late afternoon, and soon it would grow dark. If the Careers hadn't left the cornucopia, they would now. He would have to move, but that took more than just standing, it required a determined mind, something he didn't have right then. Without the sound of cannon fire, the feeling of being hunted was becoming worse, the Careers unseen and unknown. Kaede stood from his resting spot, and finally looked at his surroundings, taking in the sameness of each of the trees. They all looked nearly identical, useless in trying to pinpoint his location. He had run, and now it was costing him. No supplies, so he would need to make his own cover, and food.

The sun was getting lower and lower as he dragged branches still filled with leaves to a nearby hole, layering the pieces. One after the other he dragged and mounted the branches, draping them together as best as he could. With the low lying bushes, and shorter trees it looked inconspicuous, at least to the untrained eye, which was all he could afford. After all the parts were placed together, he dropped down behind the wall of nature, and tried to settle down. A task that became harder when the Panem theme played in the air surrounding him. It didn't just come from above, but from every crevice of the arena, destroying any chance of sleeping he had had. In the sky, the Capitol symbol flashed, and then a stream of faces, all those of kids he had seen fall at the Cornucopia. With them came the knowledge of their origin, the small girl killed by Mason being from District twelve, and the others, six in all, coming from Three, Five, Eight, and Ten. Her name had been Iris that was all he knew, besides the fact that she had lived too short a life. He was now one out of eighteen tributes left. It seemed wrong to simply wait for one of the Careers to end him now.


	4. Part Four: Offense

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Four: Offense

By Lauren Price

He had fallen asleep somehow after the fallen tribute sequence, but it had been a light sleep, his rational fear keeping his senses heightened and his nightmares alive. It was early morning when he woke, hardly any light breaking through the canopy of evergreens, and the nighttime chill still freezing enough to warrant the jacket he had been provided. The jacket though, meant that while his torso was warm his legs were still cold, the shivers managing to keep a firm hold on his body. Regardless of how he felt, there was only silence as he laid against the tree, seeing if he would fall back asleep or stay awake. His panic from yesterday had left him with little energy, and his heavy eyelids made sleep sound like a brilliant idea, even if it wasn't.

Sleep was just beginning to take over when he heard it, a quiet 'snap' that jerked his head out of its lolling nod. At most, the sound had been a few meters off, quiet enough to have been an animal, or at worst: another tribute that was passing somewhere nearby, but then it sounded again, closer this time. Kaede glanced around his encampment, scanning what was available to him, but he was weaponless. All he had at his disposal was the sample of branches, some way too small to take any person out, and the others much too heavy for him to even lift. None were his first pick for a fight.

When the snap echoed only a few trees away, he grabbed one of the heavier branches, keeping most of its weight on the forest floor. He sank down in the brush, gripping the large branch with his right hand, saving his left for the possible fight. Finally, the sound had come close enough that he was able to pin it to a body; another tribute. He was coming in Kaede's direction, a weapon in hand. From where he sat, he couldn't tell what the weapon was, only that the boy approaching his spot was from district nine. The branch leaning on his leg was more than large enough to take out the small boy as massive as it was. He was only four to five feet tall, still a child, which would make the fight short. The trouble came in hefting the long piece of tree, which had already begun to tax his leg and energy.

His leg tensed under the branch; he knew he would feel the soreness of this decision tomorrow, he already was beginning to. A twig snapped a couple feet off, and Kaede prepared himself. He counted in his head, marking the footfalls of the small boy. _One. Two. Three._ Closer the boy came, and with him came the noise of his footsteps; he was obviously not accustomed to masking his presence given the sounds he made in simply walking.

The boy stopped in front of Kaede's bush, Kaede tensing at the sudden pause. He had been silent; too silent for the younger boy to have heard him. His unsaid questions though, were answered quickly as the cannon sounded in the distance, marking a new death. Neither of them moved, waiting for another cannon shot, another death that seemed to always follow that first boom. Kaede breathed in deeply, picking a plan of attack, and catapulted himself out of the bush, his branch swinging in the air, gaining a heavy momentum. The District nine boy didn't even move, didn't turn from his staring in the direction of the cannon. He just stood there, oblivious to the threat.

There was a slight delay in his senses as his body continued to move. A delay that gave him the clearest, almost unmistakable view of the other boy's confusion, and then terror as he registered what was happening, and what it meant. Down. His body only continued in its path downward on the other boy, swift, and gradual at the same time. Then there was a 'thunk', as it connected, a sound that wasn't as smooth as the machete he had seen the District Two boy wield. The blow itself was merciful enough, clipping him brutally in the head with the force to give a near instantaneous death. The force threw the boy off his feet, but there would be no catching himself from the blow, his body immediately crumpling to the ground with an even louder 'thunk'.

Kaede could only stare as the breath left the young boy's body, the cannon marking his fatal success. The branch dropped from his hands, his left finally losing its strength once again. Blood coated him from the strike -all not his own- some dripping and drying on his face, the rest remaining as droplets on his clothing, spattered across his jacket and pants. He should have cared, should have felt sick, but instead there was only a hollowness; a sense of detachment, the blood becoming a second skin. It didn't help that he hadn't a drop of water to spare for cleaning himself.

For so long he had dreaded the games and what they meant for someone like him. No one at the Reaping thought he would make it, and yet he was still alive. That had to count for something. Or at least that was what he hoped for himself. It was the only thing that he could believe if he was going to make it anywhere near the end of the games.

He stooped next to the fallen body, his gaze skirting over the marks he had inflicted himself. From the amount of blood that coated the forest floor at his feet, he knew staring at what he had done would only hinder his own chance of survival, of winning. Shuddering, he pushed his hand into the area under the boy's arm, pulling out the weapon that had fallen under him. There was a brief moment of relief as he grasped the weapon the other boy had been clutching; an axe, nearly identical to the one he had worked with back home. Its steel tip glinted in the afternoon light, sharp and clean. The handle under his hand was soft, not the rough wooden kind he had grown up with. He pulled it up with his bad hand, wincing as it let out a deep ache, drained already from the attack. For now, he would have to rest and recuperate in order to be ready for the next encounter. He could make plans tomorrow for all the good they would do him at this point. With a sigh, he switched hands, and held onto the axe, unable to place it anywhere else. He would need it in the coming time anyway.

On the boy's back was one of the bags from the Cornucopia, but inside of it was only a canteen that was half full, and matches that he would never use. He sighed for a long moment, uncapping the canteen, and gulping down a fraction of the water. Frustration kicking in, his hand tightened around the matchbox, crumpling it a little on the edges before he tossed it back in the bag, and slung the pack on his own back. He would still need to find water.

There had been mostly silence for what seemed like forever, the sound of cannon absent in the arena. His killing of the boy ended that long silence, but only for that short span of time. From Berkeley's words, he had remembered to keep count of the tally, which had now crept up to seven, only two days in. He didn't know which tributes remained, merely that he was sure the careers were still alive, and hunting everyone else down. If he was to face them, he would need more than just his strength to survive.

That night, he laid himself in the thick leaves of a low tree, tucking his body out of sight. There was still light peeking over the canopy of the trees, but it was pitch dark where he rested on the ground. None of the other tributes dared start a fire in the endless darkness, terrified of what the others could do to them in their sleep. A lone light flashed briefly as the music began, and the fallen tribute's faces showed in the sky. Remorse had its second go at him when the small boy from nine appeared at the end of the sequence, a pang in his chest reminding him that he had done the unthinkable. He had killed someone who should never have been in this hell hole. He had killed a boy; an armed one, but still a boy.

The music ended, and the light faded from the clouds, nighttime enveloping him, and his growing despair. The torture he realized, didn't end as soon as the tribute sequence disappeared, it only looped itself day after day. He would either win, die, or go insane. He was sure he preferred winning as opposed to the latter two, but he had a feeling disaster was coming for him.


	5. Part Five: Disaster

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Five: Disaster

By Lauren Price

His dreamless sleep ended abruptly, the cannon echoing in the early morning like a terrifying alarm. Kaede gripped the axe tightly in his good hand, trying not to move from the hiding spot. At first, there were not any other sounds, but then a scream –female by the pitch- broke out in the nearby stretch of trees. Instinct told him to run, but the arena had already worn thin the trust he had for instinct alone. He waited, tense all over, in the bush he had slept in, not moving a muscle, only listening for the next clue. Regardless of whether it was other tributes hunting her or the arena itself, he would eventually have to move. The question was not if, but of where and when. If he moved too soon he could be spotted, and if he went in the wrong direction, the error itself could be fatal and unfixable.

Whichever tribute had screamed didn't repeat the action, but he could still hear her moving. The speed she traveled at sent a chill down his spine as he realized she wasn't being followed, at least not by other tributes. She was utterly alone.

He sat up, and tried to look over the shrubs, staring in her direction. The effort did him little good, too many trees blocking his view of her. When her scream broke out again he made his decision, grabbing his new bag and axe, and running.

At first, he didn't look back, afraid of finding the girl at his back ready to kill, or whatever was chasing her. Pace though, was hard to measure when you didn't know the danger at your heels.

Pivoting, he stopped for a long moment and looked at what lay behind him. The turn immediately gave him a visual on the girl, but it took him much longer to realize what she was running from. Rising at most a few feet off the ground was a grey wispy fog, but instead of it having been caused by rain, this one seemed to form on its own. It crept over the forest floor like a phantom, but no matter how far and fast the girl ran, it kept pace with her, lapping at her heels in a taunting fashion. She didn't slow her speed, but from where he stood, he could see her starting to stumble on flat ground, fatigue setting in.

While pausing had allowed him to know what exactly he was fleeing from, it had also allowed the fog to get a start on him. The closer it got, the more he could see its interior, currents of electric charges running through the thin wisps like a lightning cloud. That detail was all he needed to start running again, but faster this time, the bag banging against his back as he charged forward. He didn't know where he was going, only that it was toward a hill, Kaede darting around trees, and nearly colliding with them as he tried to keep an eye on the fog behind him. Whatever was feeding it wasn't letting up, the fog acting like an unrelenting predator, and Kaede its doomed prey.

Somewhere nearby the girl screamed once more, but this time, he knew she wasn't going to make it. He no longer looked at the fog, quickening his strides, and ignoring the beating of his heart, which hammered inside his chest. The hill itself was steep, but the trees that had lined its peak had given no sign of the drop he was now facing. Just within that second of realization, he knew he wouldn't be able to fight the pull of gravity that now tugged on him. His running only made to push him like an invisible hand, down- down the rough terrain, tripping, and stumbling as he tried to keep himself aloft. Behind, he could hear the faint sound of the cannon as the girl from before finally laid dead, the breath gone from her body. The sound merely reminded him why he was running, getting him to pick up the pace.

He didn't dare look at the mass of fog that slowly, but surely crept at the landscape after him. Kaede sucked in a swath of air, letting his legs carry him, even when his body felt as though it were shutting down. His muscles ached with every jolt, and his lungs burned, not from inhaling the air from the fog, but from running.

The ground at his feet transitioned quickly from leaves and pine needles to pebbles and rocks. His shoes protected his feet from the change, but traction became an entirely new issue as he slipped, losing his footing completely. The fall itself became a slide, and he found himself hurtling to the bottom of the hill, right in the direction of another tribute.

Their bodies collided, sending him into a tumbling halt. He could feel her presence beside him as the world spun, his head swimming in circles, but it did little to help him. He knew instinctively that he should be reaching for his axe, but his body was in a state of shock, paralyzing him in that defenseless position. The other tribute on the other hand, had no such problems, a spear already in her hand, its point angled at him. Her spear though, made no move from its deadly spot as she scanned him, assessing things he could only guess at.

"Which one are you?" She had no doubt been keeping track of the tributes left in the arena, but her question caught him off guard. Kaede remained silent, casting his gaze to his axe, which was only inches from his hand. He could either answer the question or try to fight it out. "Answer me," she snarled at him, her spear's tip poking into his neck, eliminating the choice of fighting.

"District seven," he replied, rasping out the words as he tried to gather his breath.

She raised her eyebrows, taking in his form, and probably remembering who and what he was. "Seven?" The incredulity in her voice revealed exactly what she recalled of him. It didn't make him like her any more than her spear did.

"Yes, and what about you?" The frown on her face deepened, her green eyes darkening.

"One." He kept his face blank, but he could sense her annoyance at his silence. The careers had split up –even if it was just her- something that rarely ever happened. Mentioning it to her though, would most likely get him skewered, and that was the one thing he did not want.

****This is the last chapter I had pre-prepared but since I am nearing the end of school I can devote more time to this. I'll try to pull together part 6 soon! Don't forget to comment, and follow the series, this series is going to start reaching its turning point. Also, who do you think will win?**** I do not own the hunger games, wish I did, but I don't.


	6. Part Six: Alliance

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Six: Alliance

By L. N. Price

"What are you smiling about?" she snarled at him, the tip pressing further into his throat, almost enough to cut skin. He hadn't even realized he had been smiling, a clue that he was more worn out than was safe.

"Nothing," he moved to raise his hands in surrender, but she only tensed, the spear going further and further. He wanted more than anything for that spear to be gone. "Look, I'm defenseless. I'm not going to strike back."

She merely glared at him, not lowering her weapon. "So?" Her eyes flicked to his axe which was still in reaching distance from his hand. "Is that supposed to make me trust you?"

In one movement, he kicked the axe away from his grasp, an action that spooked her enough to have the spear's tip slice into his skin. It was only a small cut, but its size didn't mean much when the blood started flowing. Kaede quickly pressed a hand to the cut, staring at the girl in shock.

Her own expression nearly mirrored his, the spear finally angling down. She took a deep breath, sliding the weapon behind her, perhaps to calm him or even herself. "What is wrong with you?" she breathed out, shaking her head. "Do you have a death wish?"

"No, I just got picked." He didn't mean to laugh, but when it came out, she joined him, their laughter tinged with their nervous energy. When the laughter died down, they stared at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say, but inevitably lost. "What do we do now?"

The spear edged back around her body, resting in front of her. "I don't know," she said. Her smile was gone, but she didn't frown either. "I should probably kill you."

"Or you could let me go," he replied unconvincingly.

"And what good would that do me?" She stood in that moment, aiming the spear back at him. "You would only kill me down the road if you had the chance."

"No I wouldn't." He tried to smile, but the fear won out. The blood that oozed from his neck began to trickle down, his hand wet where it had went to cover the wound. He was starting to feel like his death was imminent no matter which way this conversation went. That was what probably prompted him to bring up the one topic that could get him killed: "Why aren't you with the other careers?"

She glared at him, the spear back at his neck, way too close to where his hand was already serving as a bandage. He didn't flinch, not when it could mean impaling himself on that weapon, but he remained very still. "What makes you think I'm not?" She was denying the obvious, her glare terrifying, but not entirely hiding the truth that was slipping out its cracks.

He tried to tilt his body away from the spear, but she only came closer, her eyes trying to melt a hole into him. When he knew he couldn't escape her, he took a deep breath, gathering up his courage. "For one, they aren't anywhere nearby."

"They could be waiting," she warned.

"For what? I'm already captured. _I_ wouldn't be waiting."

"You wouldn't know that."

"I don't need to. You left the careers, admit it." He had long since forgotten his cautiousness, his courage rising as they bantered.

She didn't show any surprise if she felt it, only lowering her head, in shame. "I left them." She dropped her weapon finally, sitting in front of him. "He was going to kill me," she whispered, her face falling into a frown.

He didn't respond immediately, her words too close to the isolation that had followed him into the arena. "I-," he stammered as her eyes fell on him, clear and understanding. "I'm sorry."

"Why? You had no influence in this."

"I've been on my own for a long time. It's never easy."

She shook her head, and tapped her finger absentmindedly on her spear, her gaze on the ground. "No. It's not." There was a pause as she looked up at the ceiling of the forest, her blond hair resting against her back. "I left Chrome with him though, and the only thing I can think of is that I abandoned him."

"What's your name?" She stared at him now, still trying to figure him out, but without a weapon pointed at him this time. He didn't smile, or frown, his curiosity keeping his expression plain.

"Lux. From District One," she said. "And you?"

Now he smiled, only a small one. "Kaede from District Seven." Lux smiled back, but with a nervousness that didn't put him at ease.

"And now we've made this much harder." Her hand gripped her spear, pulling it between them, ready to kill him.

"Or there's another option," he replied, hopeful though his axe was already in his own hand, waiting for the first sign that this wouldn't work. "We could be allies."

Lux snorted, amused by his half crazed idea. "Doomed to kill each other eventually. Not to mention that I'd be doing the heavy lifting."

"Not true. You are forgetting your District Two enemy. Would he really just let you leave?"

Lux narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything, letting him continue, even if he dug his own grave with those very words. "Besides, even if I did make it to the end, I'd be an easy kill."

Her expression lightened, a slight nod telling him that she was in. "Don't get your hopes up. I won't drag you around if you get hurt."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to." She quirked an eyebrow, but stood, waiting for him to follow.

"So what is the plan, Kaede?"

"I think staying alive is a good place to start." Kaede stood, and picked up his axe, not missing the laugh that came from Lux.

"It's going to take more than just simply staying alive, Kaede." She didn't move to follow him, her gaze on the ground before her instead. "We need to either keep ahead of the Careers or fight them now. They've already started hunting other tributes, soon the lower ranked ones won't sustain them and we will be next." He knew just by looking at her that she was imagining Mason standing over her, the giant tribute sending shivers down his spine simply in anticipation.

"So we stay ahead of them and if we meet them we fight then." She nodded, but something was still off, her motivation still weak, given it was their own lives at stake. "Why do I get the feeling you aren't entirely sold on this?"

Lux looked up at him, her eyes resting on his axe which was gripped calmly in his right hand. "What if I can't kill him?"

He had to fight himself to keep from sighing in frustration. "Who?"

"Chrome. I thought I could do this but now-," she broke off, shaking her head. "Now I just don't know. He was my friend, Kaede. Before the games, before I'd ever even thought about volunteering."

Kaede finally sighed, putting down his axe and offering his hand to her. "You can give him a chance but the first sign that he isn't with us and I end him." Her eyes locked with his, surprised by the aggressive statement

"You mean that?"

He gave a nod, and helped her up, picking his axe off of the ground. "This alliance only works if we are both alive, right?" They gathered their belongings and did their best to hide the evidence of their earlier scuffle, kicking the dirt around, hiding their tracks. "Which way should we go?" They could go back up the hill he had just fallen down, or disappear further into the trees, either choice still left them far away from safety as the days crept further on.

"Trees. We can hide better there." Her confidence from before was back, Lux taking the lead again. She used her spear like a walking stick as they ambled further down the hill, straying from the level path he had collided with her on. Bushes scraped his pants as they moved slowly, picking their way carefully down. The lower they got, the more trees that sprouted up, the two of them weaving through the growing forest. Distantly he could see the beginning of a plain, void of trees, green, and almost beckoning them to it. He knew instinctively that that was the one place they should try to avoid, it would definitely end in a trap, which was something they couldn't handle right now. Lux must have thought the same, taking a turn to the left, and following the line of the trees, inching further and further away from the plain with every step.

Suddenly, Lux stopped in front of him, Kaede bringing his axe up before him, preparing for an attack or a betrayal. He wasn't an idiot, he knew their alliance was a rough one at that, formed only for survival, though it would be an odd time for her to attack. Lux merely raised an eyebrow at his attempt to prepare himself, saying nothing and simply pointing ahead. Through the lower branches of the trees he caught a glimpse of movement, two people circling each other in the small clearing. "Careers?"

She shook her head, kneeling on the ground to get a better angle. Kaede lowered himself next to her, watching as the other two tribute finally grappled with one another, trading blows that were visibly on the weaker side. Definitely not careers. That was when he saw something that hit him with familiarity. Her black hair waved with each wild movement she made making his breath halt. Lux still had no idea who the tributes were, but he knew without a doubt that it was Ashley, her knife flashing in the light as she made another attempt to gut the male tribute. Her aim though was easy to guess, and was easy to deflect. She wouldn't last long.

At that moment he wanted to go and help her. The other tribute wasn't that much stronger than she was and he could definitely outmatch the boy. Lux must have realized what he was thinking as her arm reached out and blocked his advance, forcing him back down. His adrenaline was already pumping now, prepping for action, slowing down any thoughts beyond violence. He tried to move again, his axe ready by his side, but Lux moved faster, locking her hand on his shoulder in a vice like grip. With a hard stare at him she whispered, "Would she have done the same for you?" That question alone brought his adrenaline to a screeching halt, filling him instead with a coldness.

"We need to be strategic, Kaede. We can't just blindly run into a fight. We aren't the Careers." Things had changed in such a short time, their roles suddenly reversed. It was now him who was abandoning her, leaving her to die. He tensed under Lux's hand but didn't try to move again, watching intently as the other two tributes fought. Ashley was putting up a good fight despite her low skills, her blade still not finding its mark, but her opponents faring the same. It seemed as if the fight would go on forever when one of the knives hit home, blood spurting from the fatal wound. Kaede leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the lone victor as the other tribute's body fell to the ground, stirring up dust in its collapse.

It was the boy who stood still, his face grim as the cannon sounded in the distance. Lux's hand dropped from Kaede's shoulder as she brought her spear out in front of her. "Are you ready?" She made a motion in the direction of the boy, and didn't need to say more as Kaede nodded back at her, both of them moving quickly.


	7. Part Seven: Encounter

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Seven: Encounter

By L. N. Price

It was the boy, who stood still, his face grim as the cannon sounded in the distance. Lux's hand dropped from Kaede's shoulder as she brought her spear out in front of her. "Are you ready?" She made a motion in the direction of the boy, and didn't need to say more as Kaede nodded back at her, both of them moving quickly.

The boy had a quick second as he took in their approach, his eyes widening at the new threat, his knives raising in preparation. He was younger than the both of them, likely just shy of fourteen or fifteen, his abilities and strength still novel. Lux was the first one to strike at him, her spear thrusting inward, its tip aimed at the boy's throat. With a weak movement, he raised his knife to meet the weapon, a loud screech echoing off the clash. His defense didn't deter Lux though as she swung her spear around, whacking him to the ground in one solid move. Kaede followed with his axe, which surged straight at the boy's downed body only to meet dirt as he narrowly rolled out of the way. There was a moment as he remained kneeled on the ground, his knives resting against the ground, watching the two of them, and calculating which would come at him first.

When neither Lux nor Kaede moved, he stood, raising his knives in front of him again. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted at them, moving to his left, but not coming closer or retreating. It was Kaede for once, who came forward, his axe still at his side as he approached. He didn't reply, or make a sound as he lifted his axe, bringing his injured hand to rest on the grip with his other. In one swing, he brought the axe within inches of the tribute's face, the other boy stepping back in time to avoid it slicing into his face. There was no longer a sound from either boy as they met again, Kaede pulling back as a knife was thrust near his heart, his axe swinging upward and connecting with skin. The boy let out a shriek as he clutched his arm, the limb hanging limply from its socket. The knife that had once been clutched in the hand on that side now fell to the ground, the boy glaring at Kaede through a haze of pain and fear. In his other hand, his last knife was clutched tightly, ready for the next move.

With a cry, he rushed at Kaede, the knife leaving that hand as it hurtled towards Kaede's head. Ducking, he swung out his axe, catching the boy in the abdomen, the blade sticking in that one area between the ribs, not moving for either of them. In order to not be dragged down he had to release the axe, the boy sinking to the ground like a rock in water. Lux came forward then, bending down and taking the handle before yanking the blade out of the dying body. She handed Kaede his weapon, but didn't look at the dying tribute, her eyes resting on the blood soaked axe. There was no congratulations given, neither really relishing in the sounds of pain that came from the boy. The cannon echoed just beyond them as the last gurgle of breath and blood left the body, both taking a step back in guilt or regret, they really didn't know anymore.

"We need to keep moving," she whispered, stepping back out of the clearing in the direction of the bushes they had once hid in. Kaede glanced once more at the body before following her, kicking the path their footsteps made.

"How many is that now, Lux?" She stopped, and turned to look at him, unsure of what he had meant. "How many tributes do you think are left?" There was a shrug, but the expression on her face marked her train of thoughts.

"Too many. But with all the careers left, give or take a few other tributes, I'd say somewhere around ten including us." She took his silence as the subject being dropped, picking her way through the bushes and other debris that lined the forest floor. Kaede kept behind her, stepping in the same spots she did, remaining only a few seconds behind at a time. Only yards away was the clearing that they wanted to avoid, somehow drawing them in.

The further they tried to keep away from the larger clearing, the more trees that seemed to block their path, forcing them closer and closer. Lux's spear edged in front of her, ready just in case though her anger was just as intimidating as it was. Every step they took closer to the clearing raked on his nerves, his body tensing at every sound the forest emitted. If a bunny appeared it most likely would have been impaled on sight, no matter that it was a defenseless creature, he was so wired with adrenaline. When Lux slowed in front of him, it took him a moment to keep himself from mowing into her, pulling his body instead to her right.

It was too late to stop or hide when they spotted one of the careers standing just at the edge of the glade. Judging by his height and stature, it was Chrome, his sword held loosely at his side. His stare was on them the moment they had appeared, unreadable and emotionless. That lack of expression changed though when he spotted Lux beside Kaede, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration or anger.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, his sword raising a few inches.

Lux ignored his question, stepping forward. This action only seemed to make him nervous as he moved back, his gaze darting to the trees around them. "Where are the others, Chrome?"

"Where do you think, Lux? You need to leave." He stopped retreating for that moment, swinging his sword in front of him as a warning. "Leave, Lux. You pissed Mason off. If he sees you, you won't survive the fight."

She shook her head, handing Kaede her spear, and showing her empty hands to Chrome. "Come with us, Chrome." She took another step toward him, but it merely agitated him more. "Mason has probably realized you helped me. Come with us," she urged, holding out her hand, even when he just shook his head.

"I can't Lux."

"Yes you can."

"No, he really can't." Mason stepped up behind Chrome from one of the trees, Titania following a second later. He casually stood next to Chrome, a wide smile crossing his face as Chrome's sword fell back to his side, shaking. Patting the district one tribute's shoulder, he came between him and Lux, a haughty expression in place.

"I'm glad you returned, Lux. It makes killing you much easier." His eyes moved to Kaede, a small frown marring the smile for a brief minute. "And you brought a lamb to slaughter," he didn't smile, but his machete gleamed at Kaede wickedly enough.

"Mason, I-," he raised his hand, effectively cutting her off.

"Save it," he said sharply, his true emotions showing. Lux moved back next to Kaede, taking her spear. "I still don't know why I didn't kill you from the start. I mean you were the weakest link." He threw up his hands, the one with the machete coming dangerously close to Chrome, who had to step further back with a grimace. "Why did I let such a week tribute live so long?"

Lux tensed at that, raising her spear in front of her. "I don't know, Mason. Why did you?" He glared at her, not liking her tone of reprisal.

"Lux-," Kaede warned softly beside her, inching closer to her in expectation.

His whisper somehow had been heard by Mason who now looked solely at him, cold and calculating. Kaede wasn't invisible before, but he certainly must have seemed like a tag along instead of an actual ally. That opinion though was changed with his butting in, Mason likely including him as a target now that he had spoken. "Who are you?" It wasn't a question of interest, but scrutiny, and Kaede was hesitant to answer.

"Why do you care Mason?" Lux aimed back at him, moving towards him, and subsequently making Kaede even more nervous.

"I want to know who I am about to kill, traitor," he bit back, his machete swinging in his hand. With every arc in the air, it warned of the pain and agony it would bring its victims.

"Kaede. District Seven." Mason stopped swinging the weapon, stunned for a second at the very reply Kaede had given. "That's who I am but you won't be killing me."

Mason scoffed at him, pointing the machete at Kaede's face menacingly. "Really now? And what? You think you can kill me?" His laugh echoed in the clearing, mocking not just the idea, but the tribute who dared have it. At his side both Titania and Chrome tensed, knowing exactly the direction this was heading in.

"If that's what it takes." Mason no longer even glanced at Lux, his focus on Kaede, who he deemed more worthy of death. "Show me why I should fear you, Mason." A steely glare was aimed at him, but the feral grin slipped back onto that face as Mason ran at him, the machete raised like it had been when he had sliced dummies in practice. Those had been inanimate objects though, unable to lift a finger against the district two giant. Kaede was armed with his axe, and a brain, both coming to his aid as he sidestepped Mason within an instant.

The other boy growled as he halted his momentum and found Kaede behind him unscathed. "Is this how you fight, district seven scum?" Mason spat at the ground, rolling his shoulders before barreling again at Kaede, who met him this time, axe against machete, the clash forcing the two back with the force of the blows. The other three who had been standing, waiting for a clue as to what to do snapped to attention when the two broke apart, Chrome leaping at Lux, and Titania helping him.

"Chrome, what are you doing?" Lux stepped back from his blow, dodging as the sword arced towards her throat, no sign of hesitance in his attack.

"Exactly what he should, Lux." Titania struck out at her, not even glancing in the direction of Kaede and Mason, who were trading blow after blow, Kaede keeping pace even with his left hand aching at every strike. Each time he blocked one of Mason's swings the other tribute would get quieter and quieter, his expression setting into a dark frown. The taunts were gone, and the swings became shallower, losing the wide angle and sheer force, Kaede's axe seeming to bear down on him heavier than before. That was when he heard the loud boom issuing out in the clearing around them, the fighting stopping as all five of them looked around their small circle. It wasn't the usual cannon signaling the death of a tribute, but an actual boom as a roaring sound filled the air. Whatever it was, it hadn't found them yet, the clearing still only occupied by their group. Then, right through the northern tree line came a tall wall of water, heading straight for the showdown. There was not enough time to run, or form any plan of evasion, the water knocking into them, nearly carrying them with it in its fury.

As it stormed down on them, Kaede swung his axe down, holding on to it tightly as the wave kept coming. Using all of his strength, he looked towards where he had last seen Lux, moving against the water to her. Every step felt agonizing as the wave continuously pushed him back, the water rising quickly. From the area in front of him a hand reached out, hooking onto his arm with an iron grip, its owners head coming out of the deep water. When he spotted the blond hair he sighed in relief, pulling on the hand and bringing her to his side. "Are you alright?" he yelled over the still roaring water. Lux stiffly nodded at him, letting him pull her in the direction of the forest and higher ground. They needed to get out of the water before they found out how flooded the area could be.


	8. Part Eight: Burned

Part 8 is here! Let me know what all of you guys think once you've read it. It's been rather quiet. Enter usual remark on how I don't own the world of the hunger games, etc, only the characters that came from my mind. :)

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Eight: Burned

By L.N. Price

As it stormed down on them, Kaede swung his axe down, holding on to it tightly as the wave kept coming. Using all of his strength, he looked towards where he had last seen Lux, moving against the water to her. Every step felt agonizing as the wave continuously pushed him back, the water rising quickly. From the area in front of him, a hand reached out, hooking onto his arm with an iron grip, its owner's head coming out of the deep water. When he spotted the blond hair, he sighed in relief, pulling on the hand and bringing her to his side. "Are you alright?" he yelled over the still roaring water. Lux stiffly nodded at him, letting him pull her in the direction of the forest and higher ground. They needed to get out of the water before they found out how flooded the area could be.

Using as much strength as he could muster, Kaede pulled the two of them back in the direction of the forest, only letting go of Lux when she was able to stand straight. Behind them all they could hear was the sound of rushing water, the other tributes missing for the time being. For once, the only imminent danger was the arena and not the tributes who were supposed to be hunting one another. Maybe the water would even take out one of the Careers if he was lucky.

The water moved around them, nearly sucking the two in as it rose. Each step grew more difficult as the liquid swirled around his ankles acting like a suction cup and almost cementing his feet to the ground. It had started with him hauling Lux out of the giant mass, but now she was steps ahead of him, using both her arms to pull herself forward. Kaede, on the other hand, had no such luck, fumbling instead with his one good hand. He struggled with each step, trying to focus on Lux but he was being dragged down, and to make things worse, could hear the water bubbling. _They were going to boil him._

Panic returned to him in that moment as he tried to reach out and grasp something, his right hand leading the charge, while his left ached wildly. The pain seemed to spread from his hand to the entire arm, pulling itself back from the branch he had reached out for. Lux, who was getting further and further away appeared not to notice his losing battle, her hands already starting to find dry ground. Around him, he could feel the new surge the water took on as it began to heat up, cool enough not to burn him, but warm enough to warn him of what was to come. Slowly the water rose, reaching his shoulders and then his mouth, flooding into him. He coughed, trying to break the flow of the water, but it was relentless, pushing to finish what it had started. Soon he would sink into the deepening expanse, dragged down by the arena made flood.

There was a sharp pain as something latched onto his bad arm, pulling him towards it. He no longer had the energy to fight it, instead letting it yank him to whatever it had planned for him. The arena disaster had been meant for him, he was sure of it. The game makers couldn't have some nobody from one of the other districts defeating one of the Careers. Why else would they need such force? Kaede briefly glanced at what was currently guiding him, and felt a flicker of surprise as he met Lux's annoyed face. She wasn't actually looking at him, but the expression on her face made it clear just what she felt as she pushed against the tide, bringing him in behind her. Easily she got up onto the dry ground, groaning as she tried to lift Kaede up beside her. In that long moment she could only pull him bit by bit, his mind losing control of his body, and the water growing in intensity. It burned, sparks of pain shooting up his leg where the hot water seemed to latch on, a cry loosing from him as he tried to coil away, but failing.

"Kaede!" Lux tightened her hold on him, straining to drag him further aground. "Hold on," she groaned out, her voice nearly lost to him in the midst of his own yelling. All the pain he had ever felt from his hand was nothing in comparison to this, every pore of skin on his leg crying out at once in an agonizing plea. He could do nothing to help her save him, his body collapsing on itself. With a last cry, she helped him up from the water, pulling him even more when his body began to slacken. "You should have left me behind," she said, falling back against the ground in exhaustion. Her breaths were heavy and quick, slowing just enough for her to sit back up and look at him and his leg.

"I didn't know how." He tried his best not to let the pain show, but the burn was setting in, drawing out more pain. "How does it look?" All he could see were her scrunched eyebrows, which didn't give any hope at all.

"You should have left me," she repeated, looking at his face finally. What he saw in those eyes stunned him. When he didn't say anything to that her frown deepened, her eyes falling back on the leg that had made him forget all about his hand. "What were you thinking, Kaede?" With an alarming intensity, he could feel the exact placement of her hands on his skin, their outline drawing out a groan. Taking a ragged breath, he pulled himself into a sitting position, his calf screaming out in pain when it dragged across the ground. "Kaede!" She looked like she wanted to smack him, but thought better of it, opting to glare at him instead. "Are you an idiot?"

The question hung in the air as he stared at her hands on his leg, pressing down on the burned skin. "Kaede? What's wrong?" Lux leaned closer to him, nearly getting in his face when he still didn't answer. "Answer me, Kaede," she pressed, jabbing him in the rib to get his attention.

When he spoke, it was with a tightness, the pain seeping into everything he did. "It feels like someone raked me over hot coals," was all he said, leaning himself against the tree.

"We need to get some water on your leg," Lux said, no longer looking at his face, which hid nothing from her. She searched through their bags, pulling out a canteen from both, and weighing them experimentally. Nodding at one, she uncapped it and poured its contents on his leg, a cry coming from him when it met skin.

When she stopped the flow of the water, it still took him a few minutes to break through the agony. "Don't do that again," he breathed out, finally looking at her. She smiled for a moment before the frown was back, along with the water. "Shiiiiittttt," he moaned, panting against the pain. The burn that covered his leg no longer felt like a thousand pinpricks but a warm sensation, a painful one at that. Somewhere during the healing session his eyes closed, and unconsciousness overtook him, Lux fading out of view, and any sense of survival.

When he came to, there was a small fire but no sign of Lux. Where the water had once threatened to claim him was bare land, showing almost no evidence of what had once been there. His leg still ached, but it no longer felt as if every pore was burning away, the skin where the water had managed to touch him was a bright red, contrasting against the untouched paleness of his usual tone. The pant leg on that side was also torn, all the way up to the knee, letting the cool night breeze hit the wound in a refreshing sense of relief.

Even with the sense of relief that he hadn't lost yet another limb there was still the knowledge that he was further handicapped. It had been a miracle that Lux had allowed herself to ally with him in the first place, but now the wound served as a ticking time bomb, his anticipation growing at his impending death. That would be the only result for all this to work out for them; she would kill him and win the games. He would do it, so why wouldn't she?

He tensed as she came back into the clearing, a small squirrel clutched in her hand. "How are you feeling?" Her question was left unanswered as he watched her every move. "Kaede?" She finally glanced at him from her place in front of the fire, a small knife raised to skin the animal.

As her eyes narrowed at his silence, he spoke, trying to shake off the wariness that had settled inside him. "Fine." He wouldn't lie and tell her that he was completely healed, but he wouldn't let her know how weak he still was.

"Just fine?" She emphasized the word he had used, the knife emitting a strange sound as it tore the fur off the squirrel in several clean strokes. "I thought we were allies, Kaede." He looked at her then, but she was focused on her work, not even glancing at him anymore.

"We are, but what about in the morning?"

Her eyes met his, but there was a softness to them. "I won't kill you right now, Kaede." She shook her head and put the knife down. "I don't think I'd be able to at least."

"Why?" He realized that he wasn't exactly helping himself, but he was curious. "What would stop you?"

She gave him a funny look, but still answered. "You are the closest thing I had to a friend here, well besides Chrome." A small laugh left her even though the atmosphere between them was still tense.

"A friend?"

"Don't let it get to your head, Kaede. I will still fight you when or if the time comes." She picked up the squirrel, and held it over the fire, reminding him of his injury as the animal's flesh turned darker under the heat. "In the morning though, we will have to split up." Her words filled the quiet darkness around them, hanging over the two of them. Those eyes of hers studied him, preparing for whatever reaction he would have. "We've made a decent team, but like you've pointed out with your worries, it's about time. If we stick together much longer it will make it much harder when the end of the games nears," she continued, waiting for him to say something, anything really.

"I know," he replied, his voice icy. "I've already had the thought just like you said." To be honest, he had thought she would've killed or left him when he had been burned, but she had stayed. She had called him friend. He had never heard that term from anyone ever. But the Games came first, and she was right. How could they kill each other if they thought of the other as a friend? They couldn't, that was the answer, but of course, he had tried his best to ignore that thought the moment it had entered his mind.

Lux pressed a piece of squirrel into his hand, and bit into her own, only offering a small awkward smile when he stared back at her. "What if it's me versus you in the end?"

She paused in her eating, the small smile gone instantly. "Then we will have to face each other, Kaede." He nodded, though he wasn't looking forward to the outcome. When she finished her portion, she gathered her belongings, stopping only to look at him out of hesitation. He wanted to tell her to stay, but the look in her eyes was as much a warning as a goodbye. They were friends for now, but in the morning that would all change. He couldn't ask her to be here any longer than she had already been.

"Go ahead. I'll leave in a little while," he whispered, motioning for her to leave.

She nodded and stood, taking her bag and spear. "Good luck, Kaede." Then she was gone, leaving him in that clearing, wondering what he would do. It wasn't like he could hunt down anyone in his condition, and it didn't look good to be found and forced to run. He was an open target lying in wait. In the morning, he would have to move, but right now, even with the food in his belly, he had little energy to move further than a foot away from that tree. Until morning, he would have to sleep, and maybe then, he could think clearly enough to formulate something of a plan.


	9. Part Nine: Showdown

Part 9! Enjoy, know that I don't own the hunger games, but also that I would appreciate any comments that you guys could offer. Enjoy! :)

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Nine: Showdown

By L.N. Price

When he opened his eyes, he had thought that he had simply moved into a nightmare. That grinning face dominated his view, its promise of death finally near. The fingers that closed around his throat though were too real to be part of any dream.

Oddly, Mason didn't speak as he began the task of strangling Kaede, the grin saying what he wouldn't. _He would take pleasure from this._

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Mason was looking at him, but the words were directed elsewhere, a shadow falling over both of them.

"Let go of him, Mason." Chrome now stood behind him, his sword at the tribute's throat.

Mason released Kaede in that moment, the rest of his body rigid and still. Chrome didn't relax his sword, pressing the steel further and further into the other Career. "I'm surprised you're still alive."

"Are you?" Chrome sneered at him. "Is it because you were letting Titania kill me?" The large boy shrugged, not really answering with the movement. "Well she's dead now," Chrome said, tipping the sword deeper.

"One less person to kill," was all Mason replied with, his grin still present.

Chrome kneeled down, and stared humorlessly at him. "That's saying I don't kill you right now." He stared at the district two tribute with contempt. "Can you really be that confident?" The two were so different, Chrome much leaner than the tank like Mason.

"I just know how it will all end." The sword no longer pressed into his neck, Chrome staring at him in shock. That shock fueled Mason, his head lashing forward and hitting Chrome's with a loud 'thunk'. The district one tribute crumpled to the ground, Mason finally standing back up, Chrome's sword in his hand. For a long moment he tested the blade, swinging it in arcs, before his eyes fell on Kaede, who had stood there the entire time; a stupid mistake.

That smile broadened, Mason stepping closer to Kaede. "I'm so glad you waited-," he paused, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. He stared at Kaede, but now there was a glimmer of confusion in his eyes that was strange, given the circumstance. "What _is_ your name?"

He shrank back at the question, unsure if he should actually even answer. There was no way to run, Mason far too close and his leg too far injured to take that kind of abuse. "It's Kaede."

Mason stayed silent, his smile still firmly in place, but his body not moving. Even his stolen sword had stopped swinging, its sharp edges glinting in the morning light. The tribute almost seemed hesitant, if that emotion was even possible. "Well, goodbye Kaede." The words broke the awkward silence, Mason approaching him at a steady walk. Kaede felt the ground around him, searching for his axe, his eyes not leaving the form of Mason for fear of losing his head in that small span of time. Given the size of the weapon, he was surprised his hand hadn't met it. Finally, he glanced down and found the axe, snapping his head up, expecting to find a sword coming at him. Instead, Mason was still in the last place Kaede had seen him, but now there was a hand clutched around the boy's ankle.

"Let go, Chrome. You will get your turn next," Mason growled out, his body tense.

"Why should I?"

Mason's smile was gone, a dark glare aimed at Chrome. "So I don't bash your head in with my foot." The leg that wasn't clutched tightly moved forward in warning, but Chrome didn't even flinch.

"Is that all you can do Mason? What about the show you so desperately want to put on?" He was goading him. The question was what that would cost him. "Who wants a victor with no imagination?" Mason's ego was the one thing that never took a hit, and that was clear by the silence that answered Chrome's questions. "I guess you weren't the one they wanted, Mason. How does it feel for the Capitol to not want you?" The glare that had been aimed at Chrome only became darker as Mason's jaw flexed, but that was the only movement Kaede could see between the two.

When neither moved, Kaede slid back, trying to silently distance himself. "I'm not going to repeat myself, Chrome. _Let go._ " The hand that had not moved before, now loosened, Mason yanking his ankle away with a sound of disgust. "Now just stay there and don't get in my way."

Mason turned to gaze back at Kaede, not missing the added distance as the smile returned. "Are you scared Kaede?" Chrome's sword angled down, letting out a sharp sound as it scraped against the dirt. "At least someone here knows their place," Mason said quietly, Chrome rising a little from his place in the dirt. Mason stopped a foot away, raising his sword just enough so it no longer rested on the ground. Kaede didn't even move his axe, knowing that if Mason wanted to kill him he could without any effort spent, and Kaede would be lying in the dirt dead.

Slowly, the sword angled up, its tip finding home at Kaede's chin. It stopped there, resting for a moment, the tip leaving a cold sort of pinch as it stayed there. Mason scrutinized him in the long moment, judging some unknown characteristic. "You aren't much," was all he said though, leaving so much to interpretation. He must have come to some conclusion the tip leaving and the sword arcing in a curve to meet Kaede's throat. He didn't raise his axe or flinch as he watched the motion of the other weapon, only waiting for the blow. There wasn't a point to fighting a losing battle, especially when the outcome was so clear.

When the sword merely stopped at its highest point Kaede finally looked past it to its wielder, taking in the additional form locked on Mason's back. Chrome clutched frantically at Mason's large neck, trying so hard to squeeze, but his smaller hands unable to do much more than agitate the other tribute. The two circled a bit, Mason looking skyward due to the new weight, his hands swinging at Chrome, snapping at any body part they could find. Every time he got close to gripping onto the smaller boy, Chrome would adjust himself, his own hands moving higher until they were on Mason's jaw and then the side of his head, Mason's eyes bulging a little at the pressure.

Kaede could only watch as the two struggled, unsure how to approach and still keep himself alive. Neither had a weapon but that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on each other. "Get off me you imbecile!" Mason was yelling, his hands finding one of Chrome's legs and yanking, hard. The suddenness of the movement loosened Chrome's grip, his body flying to the ground in one motion, his stare meeting the cruel look of satisfaction that was now on Mason's face. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" The question came out as a snarl, the sword gone, but his own machete flashing out and down. Somehow, in the exchange Mason had managed to reclaim it without Kaede ever seeing it. There wasn't a chance to even scream or yell as it fell, only blood answering the action as it spurted out, covering the weapon and Mason.

Mason didn't turn to Kaede as he stared down at his latest score, smiling when the cannon sounded in the distance. With a sharp breath Kaede stood, leaning on his axe as he felt the pain of his burned leg. He still couldn't run, but he couldn't follow Chrome into death either. He wouldn't be Mason's next kill. Without even realizing he had come to a decision, his axe came off the ground and fell into his right hand, Kaede biting back the pain that flooded in at the movement. Mason finally turned and saw him, confused when he saw the axe held ready instead of on the ground. That surprise though was short lived as his own machete mirrored the position.

"Do you really want to make this worse?" He kicked at Chrome's body as if to emphasize how bad it could be, but Kaede didn't look down. His gaze centered on the red marks that littered Mason's face, courtesy of the dead boy now at his feet. He didn't act like he felt any pain, but the darkened skin near his eyes showed what his actions wouldn't.

Taking a slow step forward, Kaede brought himself closer to Mason, the axe still kept low, but ready. "Are you scared of me, Mason?" His bruised face twitched, a flicker of surprise showing before he corrected it, hiding behind his usual mask of contempt.

"You can't use my own words against me. It doesn't work that way."

Kaede nodded. "You're right, but what about the other tributes? You no longer have obedient allies to help you after this. What will you do?"

Mason narrowed his eyes, not missing what Kaede was implying. "I didn't need them. They were baggage." His machete flipped forward, pointing right at Kaede in warning. "You are the only one who ever needed help. Now here you are without anyone to look out for you." Mason came within a hair's breadth of Kaede, his rage forcing his breath out in Kaede's face like a bull. "I will destroy you." The machete whipped around, aiming for Kaede's side, right for where his ribs ended. In a quick stumble, he jumped out of range, bringing his axe up to meet the blade, a loud 'clang' cutting into the thick air. The evasion hardly deterred Mason, his anger controlling the wide sweeps of the blade as it came back again. There was not any of the cold calculation that had ended Chrome, only a dangerous determination that guided him; a danger that only posed a threat to Mason.

Swipe after swipe, Kaede managed to dodge Mason's aggression, his leg's pain nearly invisible amidst the focus he kept on trying to avoid the sheer ferocity of the swings. Several times he almost found himself staring right into the metal before he would duck, and push Mason back with a thrust of his axe. Kaede didn't even have to move far, saving the use of the leg as Mason simply swung himself around in a circle. Chrome may have died, but he was still clouding the Career's judgment, blinding him to the danger of his unplanned attacks. While Mason angled his machete down at Kaede's head, Kaede sidestepped him and guided his axe right into the spot Mason had tried to get him before, but the axe was much harder to avoid, its small blade slicing straight into flesh.

It wasn't like what he had imagined when he pictured himself being killed in the games, Mason's torso not being cut in half from the blow, but the axe's momentum seemed to glide right through the unprotected area, finding a home in Mason's gut. The other boy was stunned in that short span of time, his eyes flicking to the gaping wound, wide and marked with absolute terror. It was a look that recognized the mistakes he had made, and yet proved how little he had thought of all the others who had stepped into the arena. He had never thought that he would lose, there hadn't even been a question, and now here he was, gutted by someone who wasn't even a Career. Mason stared up at Kaede, his mouth trying to form a coherent thought, but unable to even wrap his mind around the circumstance. Blood pooled out of him at a steady rate, his hand not enough to stem the bleeding. Finally, after what seemed to be one of the longest moments, he dropped to the ground, the cannon blasting its farewell to the Capitol's intended victor.

Now there were only four other tributes apart from Kaede, and soon they would all have to face one another or the Capitol would draw them all out. All he could hope for at this point was that either Lux was already dead, or that he would soon be, because if it came to it, he knew he wouldn't be able to face her.


	10. Part Ten: Submission

Here is part 10! Small notice for those who are loving this: After this series I will be focusing on my work on wattpad, so if you would like to follow my original work on there, and have an account of want one, here's the link: user/AWriterCanDream Check it out, and keep an eye out for my series that starts out late March: Wastelands

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Ten: Submission

By L.N. Price

The early morning light was blinding as he stooped to get water the next day, rubbing the liquid on his face, and enjoying the small bliss it gave him. At this point, he was used to blood coating some part of him, most of it that of his enemies, but now some of it was his own, mixing and drying together in a crusty layer. No matter how much he scrubbed, the mixture managed to stay rooted to his skin, reminding him more than the tribute sequences of what he had done. The Careers were gone, but the threat of death was still hanging over his head.

As if to point out how true that thought was, the cannon sounded out nearby, making him flinch in a way that made him curse. The count had just gone down to three other tributes just like that. Kaede reached for his pack and axe, sprinting toward the tree line where he would at least be able to hide his movements from the other tributes. Pain lanced out from his right leg with every step forward, his pace becoming that of a stumbling run. Between his leg and hand, he was a walking target, easy to take out if he wasn't ready.

"Attention tributes. Attention tributes," the voice from the beginning of the games rumbled throughout the arena, bringing Kaede to a jerky stop. A rough wheeze exited his lips as he tried to regain his breath, his eyes rising to the sky in anticipation of what was to come. "There will be a feast today at the Cornucopia. And we plan to be generous hosts," there was another pause as the voice leveled off, indicating a knowing smile. "There will be food and water for each of the remaining tributes. I hope to see each of you there." The announcement shut off with a sharp click, Kaede sinking to the ground in exhaustion. He would have to make his way to the Cornucopia, but it would take even longer now, his energy draining, and the pain keeping him from moving. With a dry sob, he lowered his head between his legs and let out a sharp cry, screaming all of his frustration to the ground.

When no more sound could come from him, he sat back up, listening for any signs of the other tributes. The forest was completely silent, not even reacting to the noise he had emitted, like he had never broken down. He was fortunate, but some part of him wished someone had come along and taken him out of this entire show. The only death he wanted was one that he wouldn't see coming, any other and he would fight it, not because he had any courage left, but simply useless instinct. Rising from his position on the ground, he looked at the sky, trying to judge where the announcement had originated from.

Nothing in the limited view he had moved, the sky a clear blue, nearly looking peaceful. The arena itself, only housed a small collection of birds that he had seen, many of which were now scattering from an area east of his location. He now knew the place he had to head to, but still his feet stayed firmly planted to the ground, his gaze on the expanse of forest he would have to trek through. It was morning, but it would take him a few good hours to make it there. Hours that would leave him open to attack as the few other tributes went there as well. He let out another curse and began to move, taking small, unsteady steps with his burned leg.

He picked his way through the maze of trees, choosing the path of least resistance. Every now and then, he was sure he could make out the red hue of blood in the dirt that littered the forest floor, but as soon as he got near, he would realize it had been his imagination. Even if he won this competition, a fear was eating at him that wouldn't be swayed by his simple need to live. If he managed to live, in what would state would it be? Would it be worth it? It was the kind of question that ate away hope in a wild blur, destroying any motivation it met in the process. The only thing that kept him moving towards the Cornucopia was the momentum, dragging him to the one place that challenged his odds of living.

It was midday when he finally stopped at the edge of the forest, the Cornucopia sitting innocently in the middle of the green field of grass, seemingly abandoned. Planted in a circle around it were the platforms, but those were the only objects he could make out in the clearing, the weapons and the bodies of the dead tributes missing. Everything that had laid there on the first day was gone, as if it had never happened. Instead of running out and putting himself in imminent danger, he coasted the edge of the forest, staying as far in the shadows as possible. In his right hand, his axe remained a heavy reminder that there was still a high barrier to his survival, even as he continued to be the only one there.

Hour after hour passed as he waited for a sign of the other tributes, his patience waning with every wasted minute. He had been there too long, but he needed food, and the game makers were obviously waiting for everyone to show up before they would start their supposed feast. It was a fact that made him bristle as he sat down, and hid himself in a bush, deciding it was best to conserve energy. Only now, he heard voices, two tributes stopping only a few trees away from where he had tucked himself into the bush. One was female, around ten or twelve years old. The other was a boy, a couple years older than she was, a knife gleaming in his hand. "Stay there," he stiffly said to the girl, leaving her in the shadows as he came closer to the clearing, searching for signs of the remaining tributes.

"There's no one there, Quince." She came up beside him, shouldering a bow and quiver of arrows. "There's not even food," she muttered darkly, ready to leave the area.

He glared at her noise, his confusion clear. "Where are they?"

"Probably hiding," the girl replied sardonically. "Can we go?"

Quince only shook his head and stepped closer and closer in the direction of Kaede's spot, doing what he had done earlier. The two were surprisingly clean, and even more surprising seemed unscathed. From where he sat, he couldn't make out a single cut on them, their skin unmarred by the trials they had all faced. He had heard of tributes that had won by hiding the entire time, but the Capitol never showed them on the broadcasts, focusing on the aggressive tributes who killed the most. The one clue he had to this fact was the way they each held their weapons, the bow not in her hands ready to fly an arrow, and the knife held weakly in his. They hadn't even used their weapons yet.

"Look, Quince there's no one here, and the Capitol was never going to feed us. We need to go." Quince gave the clearing one last look before he nodded, and turned, not even looking at the bush he was about to run into. Kaede didn't have a moment to move as the younger boy's body came right into his bush, Quince's foot kicking Kaede on his injured leg. Between the moan of agony, and the feeling of meeting something that was definitely not a bush, Quince jumped back, an expression of complete shock crossing his face.

"Quince?" His partner stopped from her walk back into the forest, catching his expression and grabbing her bow, pointing the tip of the arrow at Kaede's bush. "Whoever you are, come out!" Kaede glanced at her and then back to Quince, who still had yet to formulate an idea on what was happening, and made his decision. Leaning forward, he ducked out of the bush, grabbing the boy by the legs and yanking him down. Quince let out a cry as fell to the ground, his knife dropping away, out of reach. The girl didn't even fire when it happened, the hand she had on the arrow shaking with nerves.

When Kaede exposed himself from the bush, his axe in hand, Quince finally made a move to get away, his legs kicking at Kaede's arm, trying to knock it off him. His struggle did little though to help as Kaede let go, and raised the axe, bringing it down swiftly on the boy's closest vital area; his midsection. It wasn't a kind kill, but soon enough the cannon echoed in the clearing, signaling to the girl the death of her comrade. He hadn't paid attention to the tributes who had died, but he was sure that these two were from the same district, especially if they had been hiding this entire time.

"I will kill you," the girl screamed at him as he rose from where he had killed Quince, the arrow actually aimed at him this time.

"How?" He felt like Mason the way he was taunting her, but somehow her survival from hiding annoyed him enough to rile. How had the careers never found them? How had they even made it past the Cornucopia? "Have you even used that?" She glared at him and his taunts, raising the tip of the arrow higher and higher until it pointed at his head, right in the area of his forehead.

"It doesn't matter!" Her other hand drew the string of the bow back further and further, readying to let the arrow loose, but before she could even let it go, Kaede's hand latched onto the arrow. The string released a thick 'thrum' as it vibrated in the air, but the arrow didn't move, caught in his grasp as he met her wide eyes.

"Actually, it does." He ripped the arrow out of her grasp, chucking it to the ground. At one time, he would have let her go, but now there were only three of them left. She and one other were still between him and actually surviving this specially crafted hell. Before she could raise another arrow at him, he swung his axe around, letting it gain momentum and find her chest, a gasp escaping her as she fell. The cannon boomed again when her body met the ground, unmoving in the dirt. Kaede stared at her for a good minute, feeling a coldness take over his emotionless state.

"You've changed, Kaede." He didn't turn to look at the owner of the voice, knowing who it was already.

"Not as much as you," he whispered, gripping his axe. "Is it really just me against you?"

"Yes, but I'm not failing." He looked at her then, finding her doing the same to him, her spear loosely held at her side. "There's an easy way to do this Kaede, and a hard way. It's up to you how this goes, but you know there's only one way this will end." This was the one thing he had wanted to avoid; the one person he had feared facing as soon as he had allied with her.

He stared at her for a long moment, mouth agape. She was resolute, her decision already made. Did she really expect him to fight her? _Yes,_ he realized with a pang as her spear slid forward in her hand, the first bit of emotion he had felt since he had left Mason dead. Its tip gleamed in the light, wicked and dangerous. He gripped his axe in anticipation, dropping into position, but he didn't have the same determination that she did. He didn't have the confidence that kept her head held so high.

"Lux-," he started, wishing for some kind of hope, but she quickly cut him off.

"Don't make me kill a defenseless enemy, Kaede." The same coldness that had covered him before now filled her voice, her emotion completely cut off.

"Enemy?" When she nodded, he dropped the question. "We don't have to do this," he tried once more.

"Don't try to talk me out of this, Kaede. There can be only one Victor."


	11. Part Eleven: The Hanging Tree

Here is part 11 guys, enjoy, comment, follow!

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Eleven: The Hanging Tree

By L. N. Price

" _Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me. Strange things did happen here. No stranger would let it be if we met up. At midnight in the hanging tree,"-Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins_

"Enemy?" When she nodded, he dropped the question. "We don't have to do this," he tried once more.

"Don't try to talk me out of this, Kaede. There can be only one Victor." Her spear angled out in front of her as though she were about to spring at him. Instead, she stayed planted in that position, studying him. She was studying him for weaknesses, and he knew he had many, _too many._

Her gaze centered on his leg, finding it still roughly bandaged around the burns. With how little he had been able to stop, it was most likely infected, but that wouldn't matter if he was dead. Having taken count of everything, Lux darted forward, her spear drawing into an upward angle, its point aimed at him.

He wanted so badly to let her kill him; to end it all. As frightening a conclusion it was, it would be so easy. He wouldn't even have to move a muscle, the spear would simply stab him wherever it fell. Lux would be victor, and he would be free of all this, never to suffer under Panem again. It all sounded so great, except for the part where he would be dead.

From inside him he dredged up that one goal he had decided on from the very beginning. The goal that didn't care what anyone thought of him, and only sought to win. Closer and closer the spear's tip edged in, as if in slow motion, his decision dictating its final course. In a whip like speed his axe flew upwards, a loud screech issuing as it met metal and knocked the spear aside.

Whatever relationship had existed between the two was gone, Lux only glaring at him for fighting back. The course her weapon had been on had been merciful, now it would find whatever it could lay claim to. She would maim him if it got her exactly what she wanted. The look she gave him said as much, if not more, her body leaning forward, ready to strike. "You shouldn't have done that, Kaede," she growled.

He didn't cower under her stare, facing her with every bit of determination he could muster. "And let you kill me, Lux? What gives you the right?"

An eyebrow lifted at his question, but no smile appeared. "That's the point, Kaede. One of us has to kill the other." Mockery dripped off her tone, no pity available. "You should have taken the little bit of mercy I offered."

"I'm sorry, Lux." She merely shook her head at him, settling into her stance, her spear drawn behind. He felt the sweat pooling between his fingers, loosening his grip on his axe, and a cool calmness quelling his fear. If she wouldn't regret this then he wouldn't either. He didn't get into a stance like hers, but his grip tightened on the handle of his weapon, ready for her next move. It came quick enough, Lux moving with alarming speed, her spear still tucked tightly behind her, still not coming between them. That was when he noticed its absence, and a bright flash of metal, a familiar machete coming at him. He hardly had the ability to take in the information and move in the same span of time, his body dropping to the ground hard to avoid being slashed. There was no grin of triumph on her face, or troubled frown, she was stone faced entirely, giving no sign to her real emotion.

She paused before coming back at him, letting him stand, his eyes wide, unsure just who stood before him. "Where did you get that?" His eyes didn't leave the form of the machete, knowing the answer already even as he asked.

"I found it. I didn't fail to see just who took Mason out though." There, right in her eyes was the spark she had shown before. "Shame they left this." She held the machete in front of her, eyeing its blood spattered metal; blood that had belonged to the one friend she had claimed. The light was gone once again, and the blade had done its work, shaking up every inch of him. Her spear was gone now too, with every last bit of her he had known, the machete making her seem more like Mason.

"Maybe it disgusted them." He narrowed his eyes at her, finally bracing himself for the stranger she was.

Lux smiled though in return, lifting the machete in a menacing point at him. "Then maybe they shouldn't have made it this far." There wasn't an opportunity to speak again as she rushed him, swinging the machete around her like it had always been hers. He could only lift his axe in time to parry her attacks, never getting ahead of her quick speed. Again and again, she cut at him, moving her body in such an agile way that he would find himself whirling to simply keep up. His head whipped back and forth, between the place she had been and the place she was now, losing track of her completely in those moments. She was an entirely different person. Every thrust of the machete was aimed at two distinct places on his person, which was the only reason he was able to block her. She wanted to take out the two weakest spots, his leg and left hand, the two locations that would not only pain him, but disable. He could feel the weight of the Capitol citizen's stares, their awe at the intense showdown that had culminated between the two tributes it had written off from the beginning. Irony was afoot, they just didn't know what kind.

Kaede ached with the movement of keeping up, his arms hefting the axe through the sweat and pain that covered him. Whatever was motivating Lux wasn't letting her slip, her attacks solid, and the holes almost invisible to detect, save for one. With her gaze locked on his leg, and arm, her head only occasionally snapped up to look at him. Her upper torso was a weak wall, crumbling with the effort of defending everything else. All he had to do was get his axe up high enough to strike her somewhere up there without her getting any clues to his plan. Even with her focus solely on quartering him her attention was widespread, her senses like those of a cat, its whiskers picking up the slightest hover of a finger.

It was the next strike that pushed him forward, sliding ever so slightly to the side as she dove down in the direction of his leg, the machete on the kind of path that was hard to come back from. He didn't stop to think; didn't stop to question his own intent, the axe pulling itself with the given momentum, flying out of his hands. His eyes didn't go to her in the instance, locked as they were on the peaceful forest that surrounded them. He could only hear the small whimper that came from her as it made impact, reality dawning on her, slowly but surely. With her realization came his own, his body moving before his mind to catch her. In doing so, his eyes fell on the damage he had inflicted, catching the blade in his gaze, its new home a cavity in the area between her lungs. Blood flowed all over his hands, coating them in a red that was the stuff of nightmares.

"Kaede," she whispered, her voice mingled with a gargle of blood as it found new avenues out. "I-." Her eyes centered on the sky above, blinking still, but covered in unwept tears. "I'm sorry."

Kaede shook his head, trying to wipe the blood off his hands enough to touch her face. The heavy liquid though, stuck to him, drying in a crusty layer even as more was attracted to him. "Don't be. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"For what?" Her voice was weakening.

"For acting out of character."

"You're the-," she stopped, her body arching in pain, a cough forcing up more blood. "You're the Victor." The smile on her face was meant to be assuring, but that was exactly when her body chose to quit, her face relaxing, and the eyes losing their luster and focus. He stared down at her, his stare on the one bit of skin that hadn't been touched by blood; her eyes. They had lost the soul that had lit them up, merely glass orbs in its absence.

"Why did you have to fight?" The question came out softly, nearly a whisper in the quiet glade. "You could have just killed me in my sleep and avoided all of this!" If the birds had not flown away earlier they would have now, his shout ringing out in the cold air, falling on the deaf ears of the kids he had slain. "Why?" He leaned his forehead on hers as the sobs came, unaware of the ship that began to float over him. Its motor hummed in the empty sky, sending a rough wind in its approach, Kaede finally staring up at it, knowing who it was, but unable to reign in the torrent that was his emotions. There was no message of congratulations that met him that night. Instead, they gave him darkness, likely prying him off the dead tribute girl, and hauling him aboard with a grumble. Why should they care that he had killed the one person he cared about? The one person who had cared for him? Why should they care that it was their fault? _Why?_

It was the sound of beeping that awoke him after that endless darkness; a constant, irritating beep that reminded him of what he had done. The light beyond his eyelids beckoned him out his sleep, but there was that sense of welcome that came from the darkness, the kind that wouldn't remind him of what had happened. It was a new feeling that jolted him out of the void, sending a deep chill down his spine in its wake. Muscles that had been broken and weak since birth were now made whole, twisting in his panic with that of their partner. Slowly, he turned his stare to his left hand, taking account of the long, thin, and unmarred digits that flexed before him. He twitched the fingers in a test, his stare hardening as the fingers moved with little effort, as if his hand had been fine all along.

The door to his room opened and a young nurse watched him in shock, a smile passing onto her face as she noticed his attention on the hand. "Isn't it amazing what technology can fix these days?" She came closer, checking the instruments arrayed around his bed, nodding her head absently. "I bet you thought you'd never be able to fully use that hand."

"No," he tried the word out, grimacing at the truth of it. "I didn't." He stopped moving the fingers, laying the hand further from his side.

"I'll tell the doctors that you are awake. Everyone is excited to see the new Victor." She smiled again and he had to bite his lip to hold back the shudder that wanted to run through him. It was shocking to see how little these Capitol people could see past their own silly lives. "I'll be right back." The door closed behind her, Kaede sitting up in the bed, frowning as he had to use that hand to support himself. Most of the flat surfaces nearby were clean, not housing a thing on them. He needed something with an edge, but these people were smart enough to at least not leave those things lying around.

His eyes gazed out at the wall with the door, scanning it for shadows through the windows, wondering at how long it would take the doctors or nurses to arrive. He checked each of the tables again, seeking out the scalpels or other sharp objects that were available. All that he could find was a small scalpel that was on the surface at the end of his bed. Quickly, but silently he crawled across the bed, pulling along his IV drip to keep it from dragging on his arm. He had just barely managed to grasp the scalpel when the door swung back open, his body collapsing against the bed, the blankets falling on him and the scalpel as the nurse walked in. "If you are feeling better, the Doctors have cleared you." Her eyes looked at the table, but didn't notice or care for the missing instrument. "Your stylist arrived a few minutes ago, they're simply waiting for your word."

"I'll be ready in a couple of minutes." Kaede gripped the scalpel hard in his right hand, digging it into the soft mattress, hiding it in the firm material as she pulled off the blanket. The hole was easily hidden, but eventually they would find it, hopefully when he was far away from the Capitol. He gave her an easy smile as he got up, standing without any trouble, even his burned leg fully healed. They had left nothing to remind him of all he had been through; he had been dually robbed. The nurse returned his smile, leading him out of the room and into the hallway where his team waited.

They stood him in front of the entrance to the stage, just out of view of the crowd, the President's voice booming out on the other side. "This is a glorious day!" Kaede stiffened at the words, his fists tightening. "Out of the destruction from the war we were given the Hunger games, and out of the games we have received a Victor; one of strength and valor." The President raised his hands skyward and the crowd cheered, the sound vibrating the stage. Devri came up behind him, pride showing in the smile he gave. "It's time, Kaede." He nodded and stepped out onto the stage, trying not to wince as the clapping and cheers surged at his arrival. The President met him half way, showing him to the small platform that had been erected for the Victor, leaving him there as he got the Victor's crown. When he turned back to Kaede, the thin crown rested in his hands, and then was set on his head. "Congratulations, Victor. I look forward to seeing more of you in the future," he nodded his head at Kaede, and faced the crowd, waving to them as he left.

"If you would come this way," another man stood in his place, his hair dark, but the look in his eyes old and cunning. "It's an honor to meet the Victor of such a games," the man said smiling, his smile almost disarming with its callousness. He wore an equally dark suit, a white rose pinned carefully on its lapel, the smell of it hard to ignore. The smell wafted off the flower, choking the air between the two, Kaede trying to smile, but ultimately failing. He shook the hand that was offered to him weakly, staring him in the eye.

"As I've already mentioned, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Kaede. I apologize for not doing so earlier, but of course I was not in the position I am now." He smiled wider, and motioned for Kaede to follow him off the stage. "I was glad to see how great that hand looks." Kaede's head snapped up at that, his hand hiding behind his back.

"You did that?"

"Fixed your hand? No." He chuckled at Kaede. "I simply told the doctors how nice it would be for the Victor to have a fully working hand."

"What if I didn't want a working hand?"

"Then it would be best to keep that opinion to yourself." The fakeness behind the smile showed itself, highlighting the threat that was implied. "Victors should be grateful for the opportunities afforded them. There are worse things to lose." With another smile, he walked away, leaving Kaede with Devri and Berkeley, who were all too happy to lead Kaede away from the growing crowd.

There were many things that were spoken of as they boarded the train that night, ready to return home, but Kaede didn't listen. His companions ate, relaxed in light of how the events played out, but his stare could only rest on the hand they had fixed. The way the Capitol people had spoken to him, he was expected to accept his new life and body, no questions asked, but that felt like more of a weight than surviving was. He stood from the table the three of them had sat at, not offering a word as he walked to his quarters, letting the door slide shut behind him. It was dark in the large room, the only light coming from the window near his bed. On the decorative tables all he could spot were plates, bowls, lamps, and vases, nothing that helped him in his despair. He grabbed onto the nearest object, a bowl, and flung it with all his strength, a shout of anguish escaping him as it crashed against the wall nearby.

It took him a moment to calm his breathing, his ears listening out for any sign of someone coming to check out the noise, but no one came. Silence was all he received for his breakdown, the broken shards of glass scattered the floor, waiting for him to forget and step on them. The feeling of being trapped seemed even more real now than it ever had when he had been in the arena, forced to kill kids younger than he was. Berkeley's words from before began to make sense, the reality of winning the games finally sinking in.

When he woke up the next morning the shards were gone, cleaned while he had slept. Neither Berkeley nor Devri mentioned the noise that had come from Kaede's room, both seemingly happy to just be arriving back in district seven. He could only go along with their feigned ignorance, stepping out on the train platform with a Capitol smile, waving at the people who had all thought, and maybe even had hoped he would die. The cheering that came from them though revealed none of that, their applause just as loud as those of the Captitol people. From the old footage of the prior victors, he had recalled their bright and happy faces when they has spotted familiar faces in the crowd, but for him there was none of that. He had lived with these people since he had been born, but they were complete strangers. Having had enough, he cut short his last wave, and walked off the stage, the smile still in place, but his patience gone.

"You did great, Kaede." Devri stopped him for a moment, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. "You are by far my favorite Victor, though I am biased." He gave him a wink, and let Berkeley walk him home; his real home, not the one the Capitol had fancied up for him. They had moved most of his stuff in the new residence, but he knew they wouldn't have taken one item, the one that meant more than the rest of his material possessions. Though Berkeley likely knew where they were heading, he didn't say anything, simply letting Kaede take the lead. They went down dozens of dirty paths, weaving around rough wooden homes until Kaede stopped at one near the edge, his hand falling on the worn wood door.

"Is this your home?" Kaede nodded, hesitant to open the door and find all that had been left of his life.

"What was it like when you returned Berkeley? Was it this hard?"

Berkeley snorted, and pushed past him, opening the door with slight annoyance. "It's only hard if you let it be. I know we only survived the games, but be happy for the chance you have at life."

The hardness of the words didn't escape Kaede, his feet bringing him inside, but his mind a million miles away. "There are things I can't forget. Things I can't forgive." His left hand was fixed, but it stayed still at his side like it had every day of his life. He wouldn't use what he wasn't supposed to have.

"The Capitol had its shot at you, Kaede, and you won. Get over whatever vendetta you have, it won't get you anywhere."

"It's not a vendetta. Look, Berkeley. I'm fine, I just need a moment and I'll meet you back at the Victor's Village."

Berkeley didn't seem so sure of that, his eyes narrowing at Kaede's unmoving hand. "Are you sure?"

"I promise." Berkeley frowned, but he nodded, leaving Kaede alone in the small house. With the house all too himself, he found the object he had been looking for, and sat down at the table, resting the old axe on the surface in front of him.

There wasn't any fear or sadness in him right then, as if his body was under one understanding. He grasped the axe with his right hand, firm and without hesitance. His left was laid out on the table, still and in waiting.

All it took was raising the axe above himself, and letting it fall, the thud telling him it was done. There was pain, but it was more gratifying than agonizing, as if to tell him it was finally over. A hysterical laugh escaped him, letting a cool sense of relief wash over him. "Johnson, you still in there?" It was one of the peacekeepers, and no matter how quick Kaede was, there was no hiding the missing hand. While he had hacked off the offensive limb, he would likely die before they could get to him from blood loss. What he wasn't banking on was for the Peacekeeper to knock his way into the one room house, and take in the scene with alarming speed.

"I need backup," was all he said into his radio as he removed the axe, and grabbed Kaede's left arm, wrapping a cloth tightly around the stump. "Are you an idiot? Do you know what happens now?" That was when the other Peacekeepers darted inside and yanked Kaede out of the chair, pulling him out the door, and dragging him back to the train before the district seven people noticed a thing. He was then strapped to one of the dining chairs, and a needle injected in his neck before the darkness reclaimed him, letting him relax until he would face the unknown.


	12. Part twelve: Epilogue: The Victor

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Twelve: The Victor

The Epilogue

By Lauren Price

" _I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking,"-Finnick, Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins_

Victors are only worth their service to the Capitol. Tributes provide entertainment of death, and violence, becoming killer superstars by the end of their games. Victors though, are held to a much higher standard, and given so much more attention, more than any one of them desired. There are some that are made into prostitutes, some that drove themselves to drink, and others who went insane. Kaede had now come to consider himself the latter, and the Capitol had not come to appreciate that. The drunks were easy to hide, and control when the time came. The ones forced to sell their bodies made the Capitol money, and were already managed. The insane though, could neither be managed, nor well hidden, at least in their own districts.

The lights in the room were a pale, bland kind that only added to the dullness he felt. Men in surgical masks and white coats were all he ever saw now as they "treated" him, something that had long since seemed to be less for his own good. Cold seeped into him through his paper gown from the metal chair they had strapped him to, though he had not made a struggle in the last several weeks.

"With his story he would have been a great mentor. Sad he had to breakdown." One of the men leaned in front of him, shining a small light in his eyes. Kaede let him do as he pleased, not fighting the hand the held open each eye as the light was held up to his face. There was no reason to fight a losing battle, they always won, and always there was a cost.

"No one cares as long as he's seen at the Reapings." The man he couldn't see stuck a needle into Kaede's neck, likely giving him the usual sedative. At least that's what he figured it to be at this point. It knocked him out as soon as they stuck him back inside the small room he now called home, so he couldn't guess differently.

"What about the other victor from his district?" They never spoke like he was there and he didn't blame them, he must have seemed like an empty shell to anyone besides himself. All the emotion was gone, all of the soul seemingly missing.

"Snow handled him. He won't be asking questions." Even through the numbing of the sedative, Kaede felt a sense of shock, but it only served to agonize his hand. The stub was still an achievement, but the pain it emitted was hard to quell, and with all the drugs they gave him, none of it was ever morphine.

"How? He's not even president."

"No. But there's quite a few people who think he will be." The man in front of Kaede nodded, and undid the ties that held Kaede to the chair, grabbing his arm to haul him up.

"I'll be right back." He gripped Kaede, but his grasp wasn't firm, and the sedative hadn't entirely taken hold. There was a thought to remain the amenable, hollow form of himself that kept him calm, but the thought of Berkeley pushed into his mind. The Capitol never asked for anything, they handled things with ruthlessness, and that idea made him shake with a feeling that had long been absent. Kaede wrenched his arm out of the man's hand, using the chair to gain some sense of levelness before aiming it at the man. The metal object flew through the air, hitting the man square in the back. There was a yell as he fell to the floor, Kaede stumbling to the ground from the force it had taken.

"Quintus!" The other man stepped in and helped his friend up, the both of them eyeing Kaede suspiciously. Kaede though could only stand a little, leaning weakly on the nearest table. "How did he?"

"It doesn't matter. Just grab him." They each took one of Kaede's arms, readying to haul him back.

The anger that had caused Kaede to act returned, his feet trying to stop their progression, but slipping miserably on the tile floor. "Where is he?" His voice weak with disuse, came out raspy. "What did you do to him?" The last question came out as a shout, the anger turning into an uncontrollable fury.

"What the hell is he going on about?" There wasn't any fear in their voices as they spoke, only annoyance.

"Didn't you give him the sedative?"

"I did! Just give me a minute."

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" All sense was gone as they ignored him, an image of Berkeley dead holding onto his mind. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO BERKELEY?" There were curses aimed at him as they dragged him further and further into the hallway, using all of their strength to counteract the violent energy that had taken over him. "WHERE IS HE?" He thrashed against the arms of his captors even as they unceremoniously threw him into his small room. When the door slid in between him and them, he turned to beating on the door, hardly noticing the surprised expressions in the midst of his anguish, or the pain that lanced out from his fists, bruises and cuts forming where skin met reinforced glass.

"What did you do to him?" His yell fell on deaf ears as he slid down the glass door, tears replacing his anger with only sorrow. Their expressions didn't change from annoyance, sharp stares aimed at his shaking form. He curled into himself on the floor, hugging and clutching at his body. "What did you do?" The question echoed in the small cell as he fell asleep, the sedative finally taking affect, but the emotion still present in his tear strained face.

"I thought you had him under control?" A young man stepped up beside the scientists to have a look through the door, his face set in an unpleased frown. The frown only grew as he stared at Kaede, taking in the sight of the cracked hands.

"Mr. Snow." One of the scientists shrank back a little. "We did, but he suddenly startled. It's back under control, sir."

"It'd better be. And he had better be ready for next year's Reaping. I won't have a lunatic being called a victor." He shook his head, and pursed his lips, letting the scientists see his dissatisfaction.

"The medicine is still experimental, sir. He could die."

Snow raised an eyebrow, finding little sympathy for the concept. "Either way, I'll have my Games going according to plan. Just make sure he is taken care of."

"Yes, sir." Snow disappeared as quickly and quietly as he had appeared, not leaving any hints as to how Kaede was to be fixed, just the command which hung over the room like a death sentence. _His victors would be controlled, at whatever the cost._

 _So, I feel like I need to add that this isn't actually the last chapter since that would be a bad ending. The last chapter comes on 2/12/16, so stay tuned for that, and also a last reminder that after this my next work, Wastelands will begin to be posted on Wattpad starting in March. If you already have an account there check out my profile AWriterCanDream and you can read a sneak peek at the series, and the cover will be released on 2/12/16. If you don't have an account, it's free like fanfiction and has all my work on there, so you'll never be in need. J.K. but seriously check it out, and if you join and follow me let me know by messaging me, I love hearing from readers, and discussing some of the twists in the stories. :)_


	13. Part Thirteen: Bonus: Johanna

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Thirteen: Johanna

The Bonus Chapter

By L.N. Price

" _Make him pay for it,"-Johanna, Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins_

She knew what had happened to him. The details weren't important in this case, but the fact weighed down on her, her eyes falling on the empty seat that had remained that way since its owner had disappeared.

As simply a citizen of district seven, she had never guessed at the absence of that one victor, happy with the inkling of a life her family had given her. As a victor though, she was alone, her family gone, and the Capitol becoming the ringleader in her now circus of a life. She had learned the lesson Snow wanted her to, but too late, the consequences now burning a hole in her heart. Why she had ever thought that he had ever made empty threats was beyond her. There were plenty of victors who had changed drastically when they had won, and most weren't due to fame. God, she even knew one, but Snow had made a mistake and he would pay. For now though, she was fine with waiting as long as in the end Snow would get it.

A Capitol man walked out on the stage, turning to her first and shaking her hand with a smile. She smiled back, fake to the core, but he was oblivious in his perfect little world. _Oh_ , how she craved to see his face when that all ended.

Crowded into the packed square were the people of district seven, all of them forced to stand while this show carried on. The parents and children looked equally nervous, some of the kids glancing at her and the few other victors their district could boast. Beside her, Blight shifted, also aware of the stares aimed at them; aware of the small hope their presence gave. While both of them served as mentors, Blight was the one who excelled at helping to prep the tributes. She, on the other hand, couldn't afford to even be remotely attached. If one of the tributes survived, then good for them. If neither did, no emotional pain to her. It was cold and callous, but it kept her going, and that was all she cared for at this point. She had already lost too much to become attached to doomed children.

The Capitol took and took without giving anything back; an action that destroyed more than its lowest castes. Many of its citizens heralded Snow, but many knew nothing of the monster that had risen ever since the twenty-fourth hunger games. They hadn't noticed the Victor that went missing in the height of his life, gone mad with the same loss she knew now. The people of Panem were the blind sort that only recognized that which hurt them and nothing else. Johanna remembered him though, and for now that would have to be enough. His name had been Kaede Johnson, Victor of the twenty-fourth games, and the first in a line of many that Snow had destroyed, life and soul. She would do this for them, for her family, and more importantly for herself, but there was a definite cost.

She knew something that the all-knowing Snow didn't; something that would tear apart his child killing kingdom. The kind of information that while it made her smile, also meant throwing herself back into the danger that had put her there on stage; there was someone out there that Snow had failed to kill and they _would_ rise. It was a fact that made her smile darkly even now, facing the very cameras that fed directly to the man. She would make him pay for everything; the pain, the sorrow, _it._

 _For all my friends, past and present, I know this isn't the happy tears ending you may have waited for, but nevertheless it is an ending. Thank you for sticking with me through all the projects that never came to be. Here's to hoping for some more opportunities._

 _I'd also like to thank the readers who found this story of mine and kept on reading. You all are the reason I'm able to pull myself together when I hit the wall of writer's block. Thank you for your votes, comments, and overall support. Don't think I'm leaving you with nothing else to read._

 _If you liked this and are alright with branching outside of Hunger Games fanfiction check out: (All are on Wattpad under AWriterCanDream)_

 _-Wastelands: Dawn of the Desert (March 2016, Sci-fi)_

 _-The Collection: Short Stories and Misfits (already going and includes some misc. fanfiction)_

 _-The Calm After the Storm (Sci-fi)_

 _-The Power of the Uchiha (Naruto one-shot)_


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